Pathetic Me
by darkmorsmordreheart
Summary: DM&HP. For the lovely pathetic-me, who requested this story waaaaaay too long ago. I'm such a bad person! Ginny leaves Harry for Neville, but Draco Malfoy is there to pick up the broken pieces. Lots of yumminess ensues.
1. To Hogsmeade

Pathetic Me

* * *

**By darkmosmordreheart**

**Summary:** D&H. Bitch GinnyDrunk HarryHot Draco and fun times. After DH.

**Warnings:** This story contains language, slash, and sex, which means that there will be extremely hot boys rubbing up against each other at some point or other and they most probably will be naked and they'll be cussing as they're doing it. You have been warned.

**Disclaimer**: Much to my dismay, I woke up this morning, looked into my bathroom mirror and discovered that I was not, in fact, J.K. Rowling. Sadly, I have to wake up to this fact every day.

**Author's Note:** I had absolutely no problems with the Epilogue that was presented to us . . . Well, one. She gave Draco thinning hair at the age of 36. Yes, I know that men can begin losing hair at ages earlier than that, but this is Draco-freaking-Malfoy we're talking about, here! So, just because I highly disagree with that point of the Epilogue, I'm deliberately giving Draco a three feet crown of shining, thick platinum glory! _**-DMH**_

Dedicated to pathetic-me.

* * *

To Hogsmeade

Ginevra Potter had finally had enough. Her husband was never at home and when he was, he spent all his time with the children. He spared not one glance to the wife he swore to love and cherish. Only whenever they were in public together would he fawn over her. He barely touched her anymore, not just lack of intimacy, but also a lack of small caresses; a hand on the small of her back, a finger mindlessly twirling her fiery red hair, not even a pat on the shoulder to thank her for making his dinner. She missed her husband. She missed talking to him. She missed loving him. And most of all, she missed being loved by him.

So she came to a decision.

She spent over an hour pacing back and forth in the small foyer of the Godric's Hollow home she shared with her three children and husband. She took deep breaths to calm herself and she repeated what she was going to say in her head over and over again. He would come home, ask after Lily, since James and Albus were away at school, and before he could walk around her to check in his daughter's room, she would calmly explain that she had sent their youngest to stay for a few days with her brother and sister-in-law. He would ask why and she would calmly explain how she would not be around the house to watch Lily for the next couple of days. He would ask why and she would calmly explain . . .

She had to have jumped three feet into the air when she heard the front door creak open. Her pacing halted, her breathing stopped, and even her brain seemed to have frozen. Then he walked in. She was expecting the same tired man who had been walking into this house for the past five months to appear from behind that door, but . . . this was the Harry Potter she remembered from her school days.

His vivid eyes twinkled like emeralds, his smile was shockingly white compared to his smooth golden skin, and he even had his old stride back. Before she could even open her mouth to greet him, she was swung up into the air, into his arms, and pressed against the nearest wall.

Her husband was kissing that spot on her neck and she was whimpering and he smelled like wood smoke and man and she was melting into the linoleum and all her thoughts turned to how fast she could maneuver them to the bedroom and . . . No!

No, this was all wrong! This was all different! Not at all what she planned! She attempted to tear herself away, but failed at that, seeing as her husband had a good forty . . . er, fifty pounds on her, so she opted for a different strategy.

"Oww, Ginny! You just kneed me in the---"

"I know, Harry, but I had to get away from you!"

"What the bloody hell?!!" her green-eyed husband let out, bent over to reduce the pain her bony knee had caused. "Why can't you just speak up like a normal person? You're so violent!"

"Well, sorry," she snapped back, not really much sorry at all. "But my mouth was otherwise occupied by a certain someone's tongue."

"You seemed to like the kiss just fine with all the moaning and such." He hobbled over to the kitchen and leaned over the nearest counter as he pulled out his wand and magicked an ice pack from the fridge into his hand. "Why'd you have to go and kick me there? Now we'll probably never be able to have a child ever again."

"Lily is over Ron and Hermione's."

"What?" the brunet asked as he carefully climbed onto a stool and pressed the ice against his groin.

"I dropped Lily over Ron and Hermione's house today," she repeated slowly, mentally encouraging him to ask her why.

"I know, Ron told me. Does she have a play date with Hugo?"

"No." _Ask me why, you twit!_

"No? Well, that's what Ron hinted it was, but he also hinted something else . . . that I can't do now since someone kicked me in the---"

"God! I said I was sorry about that!" the redhead snapped as she threw her hands into the air and walked from the room. A quizzical look passed over her husband's face as he gingerly hopped from the stool and limped after her.

"What's wrong?!" he called to her, briefly stumbling over a few suitcases in the hall towards their bedroom.

"Nothing, Harry. Nothing and everything as always" she shouted as soon as he walked into the room. She opened her drawers, snapping the already emptied ones a moment after she opened them and pulled out a thick stack of parchment. She threw it on the bed between them and stared at the man expectantly. "Well?"

"Well what, woman?"

"Read them!" she screeched, stalking around the bed, pushing past Harry and out of the room. He hastily snatched the parchment up and followed after her.

"Ginny! Tell me what's the matter!" he ordered, tripping---yet again---over the bags in the hall. "What's this bloody luggage doing out here?"

"Did you even read what I gave you?" she practically growled at him as she turned to face him, her face almost as red as her hair under golden brown freckles.

"This?" he asked, holding up the parchment as he kicked away a particularly heavy bag.

"Read it," she told him, crossing her arms over her indignantly puffed up chest.

He scanned the papers briefly before the message was finally engrained into his mind. "You're . . ."

"Divorcing you, yes," she answered for him, taking the paper from his shaking hands.

"And all these bags?"

"I'll be moving to Hogsmeade."

"Hogsmeade?"

"Yes."

"Shit . . . Hogsmeade . . . Shit," he said again, leaning back against the nearest wall as the entirety of the situation hit him all at once like an epiphany. "You're leaving me."

"Yes."

"You are leaving me."

"For Neville Longbottom," she confirmed with a firm nod.

"Oh . . . Well, that's nice for Neville, I guess."

* * *

Yes, this bar seemed to be the perfect place to piss away any brain cells that might cause him to remember this horrible day ever again. 

It was dark, it seemed clean, and there was alcohol; thank the Lord.

He moved to the bar as quickly as he could without pulling out his wand and blasting the room full of people out of his way.

He ordered a ridiculously large glass of firewhiskey and settled onto a barstool, readying himself for a long night.

"Why, hello there, Potter," a very drunk voice whispered into his ear. The brunet jumped at the intrusion of his personal space and turned to face a man he hadn't seen for three years. His eyes widened at what a sight it was.

The man seemed to be even taller than he remembered, granted Harry was only an inch or two shorter, but, damn, he thought the other had stopped growing in their seventh year of school. His long, lean body was casually lounging on a barstool right beside Harry's. He was holding a thin glass of champagne that had obviously been refilled several times and a goofy smile shone bright on his pale, slightly pointed face. He seemed to have grown into the sharp lines of his features; his nose, still pointed, appeared patrician now, his pointed chin strong and confident. His eyes still shown a light grey, really more like mercury over silver, but the cold Harry was accustomed to seeing in them was missing. The blonde wore his hair in a ponytail that was roped into a long braid that was hanging over his shoulder and settling in his lap. In the dim bar lighting, it shone like a beacon of moonlight.

Harry almost smiled at the sight of his---now amazing---old school rival.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" he asked carefully, looking into the bottom of his glass.

"Oh, just celebrating the fact that the bitch I married has finally liberated me from the hell I've suffered through for the past seventeen years." The blonde smiled and lifted his champagne flute sardonically. "To Pansy."

Harry eyed him for a moment before lifting his own drink and tapping it against the other. "To Ginny."

"Ah, so we're in the same boat tonight, eh, Potter?"

"So it seems," Harry grumbled, downing his firewhiskey in a single gulp. He turned back to the other man only to see silver eyes watching him intently. "What?"

Draco shook his head, another smile growing on his pale pink lips, and he turned to the bartender. "Excuse me? Can we get something a bit stronger over here for the two of us?"

* * *

Harry Potter woke up with the taste of a foot in his mouth. 

Then he opened his eyes and realized that there was, in fact, a foot in his mouth.

He jerked back, releasing the toe from between his lips with a soft _pop_. He stared at the foot. It was long . . . fine boned. The toes were . . . perfect. Perfectly proportionate to the slender foot which lead to a perfectly slender ankle which lead to a perfectly slender shin and calf . . . But what Harry noticed the most was the very smooth and very pale skin. He lifted the blanket that covered him to his neck up to look at the rest of that smooth skin and, a moment later, replaced the cover.

He was in bed with a man who was not his wife.

And they were both naked. Very, _very_ naked.

Should he dare to peek under the blanket once again to further investigate or should he risk facing the problem---literally---head on? He sighed deeply because his body seemed to have already made the decision for him and he was steadily peeking over the cover. He was never one for cowardice, but his emerald eyes widened and he shrunk back from the sight that greeted him.

Draco Malfoy was leaning back against a large, ornamented headboard, his arms crossed behind his head, and a wide smile on his face as he looked to the cowering man at the end of his bed.

"Well, good morning, sunshine!"

* * *

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took me so long to begin this story for you, pathetic-me. Please forgive me. _**-DMH**_


	2. Rash Decisions

Harry found himself with a mouthful of Slytherin tongue and, oddly, he didn't immediately throw up.

"Get the fuck off me, Malfoy!" he shouted, pushing the blonde who had pounced on him like a white tiger only a moment before onto the floor. Draco looked up at him through his long, sleep-mussed hair and pouted.

"Funny how only just last night it was 'Get me the fuck off, Malfoy!'" he sniped as he stood, completely unaware or uncaring of the nude body he had just placed on display. "Why are you acting strangely now?"

"Why am I . . . What?" Harry snapped, further burrowing himself into what he assumed to be Draco's silk sheets. "Since when is it normal to wake up in your bed?!"

The blonde opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short and tilted his head in wonder. He bit his lip thoughtfully and crossed his arms over his pale, naked chest. "You've never had a one night stand before?"

"Not with you!"

"Well, shit, Potter, my pristine little virgin, sorry I didn't have the usual pagan ritual setting to properly sacrifice you in. Forgive me," Draco huffed, crawling back into his bed. Harry pushed away from him, managing to catch himself before he fell flat on his face and keep the sheet tight around his torso. "Oh, it's alright, Potter. Just looking for my bloody wand."

Harry shook his head as if to rattle the millions of thoughts running through it out. He did not . . . He did not . . . He did not . . . not with Draco Malfoy. God, not Draco Malfoy.

He turned towards a door he believed to lead to a bathroom and took one step before hissing at the amazing pain in his lower back area . . . No. He turned back to a smiling Slytherin with wide, disbelieving eyes. Draco was sitting in the middle of his now sheet-less, king-sized bed, legs folded under his naked form as he watched the other man intently with a devious smile of mirth on his face. "No . . ."

The smile only widened. "I'm afraid so, my friend."

"I did not bottom! There is no fucking way in hell!" Harry shouted just as the door behind him opened wide. He jumped about five feet in the air and instantly regretted when the pain became white hot. He turned to see a small house elf shuffle into a room and it paid him no mind at all as it moved swiftly towards the bed with a large tray of assorted breakfast food. It bowed deeply and disappeared as quickly as it appeared with a final click of the door.

"I'm not sorry to say that you did," Draco chuckled looking happier than Harry had ever seen him as he lifted a glass of juice to his curved lips. "Hungry?"

"No," the brunet said, pushing a hand through his unruly hair as he attempted to make sense of the entire situation. "I am thirty-six years old."

"Um . . . Thank you for the age update," Draco replied as he selected a piece of fruit. "Your point?"

"I'm thirty-six, Draco. I have three kids. I have an important job at the Ministry of Magic. I . . . I'm too old to do this types of things anymore. One night stands and . . . Shit."

"Harry, come here and sit. Eat something and we'll talk," Draco suggested, gesturing to the lavished tray as if presenting it as a peace offering. Harry looked at the naked man apprehensively for a moment before--gingerly--walking to the bed and settling down a comfortable three feet away from the other. Draco smiled and bit into a pear. "Listen, Potter, because I'm only going to say this once. You are thirty-six, this is true and it will be true until you turn thirty-seven. We had this . . . for lack of better words, sex thing together because we are human, Harry. We hurt. And when we do, we project, we reciprocate, we try to make ourselves feel better in any way."

"So you're saying that I slept with you because I wanted to feel better about myself?" Harry asked as he reached out and snatched a croissant from the tray.

"That's why most people sleep with me. I'm just that great," the blonde laughed a moment before he leaned forward and captured the others lip's. Harry was hesitant at first, but soon he was leaning into the kiss, lifting his hands to play with the long tendrils of silvery-blonde hair. Draco pulled back after one final kiss and smiled. He pressed a hand to Harry's reddening cheek. "Just as sweet as last night."

The brunet looked away and took a deep sigh. When he looked back into those silver eyes, now soft and warm with desire, every bit of air, along with every thought, left his body. He leaned forward and took those sweet lips again.

* * *

"Ron, get the door."

"Ron, wake up and get the door."

"Ronald, get up and answer the door."

"Ronald! Get your lazy arse up and answer the door!"

Finally, to the sweet tones of his wife's voice in his ear, Ronald Weasley rose out of his bed, a rare sight to see on a Saturday morning, and made his way downstairs to give a stern talking to whoever was ringing his doorbell and banging on his door with no respect for working people's day off. He swung the door open with his left hand, leaving his right free just in case he had to swing that as well. He stopped short when he saw his best friend, distraught and wearing the same clothes he had on the day before. "Harry? What's wrong, mate?"

"Can I come in?" he asked, running a hand through his even more unruly looking than usual hair. Ron nodded and moved aside to let the other man inside.

"Is everything alright?" he asked the tired looking man. "Is this about Lily? She's upstairs sleeping in Rose's room."

"No . . . No, I know Lily's here. I just . . . Can we sit?" Harry asked waiting for his best friend's consent before he headed to the nearby couch and sat with his head in his hands. The redhead sat in a chair opposite him and picked absently at a loose thread on the overstuffed piece of furniture.

"Harry, tell me what's wrong."

Harry looked up and gnawed his lip thoughtfully before blurting out, "Ginny left me last night."

"Oh dear," came the quiet voice of Hermione from the top of the stairs. She hurried down and hastily found a spot next to Harry, taking the brunet's hand in her own. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I remember last night when she came over here with Lily, she seemed a bit distraught, but maybe she just left to get some space. Maybe she needed time to think. Maybe--"

"She packed her bags and moved to Hogsmeade to be closer to Neville," the green-eyed man told her before she could come up with anymore wrong conclusions.

"Why in bloody hell would she need to be closer to Nev--Oh," Ron finally deduced, a frown clouding his freckly features. "Wow . . ."

"Why didn't you come and tell us last night, Harry?!" Hermione asked; her amber eyes wide and wet with tears. She laid her head on his shoulder and patted his knee reassuringly. "We're always here for you."

"Well, here's the thing," Harry began slowly, his brows furrowed and a scowl ghosting across his lips. "I went to a bar last night."

"Hence the wrinkled clothes," Ron said. Harry smiled sadly at him. "Where'd you go after that, mate?"

"I met someone . . . at the bar."

Hermione sat up and stared at him. "Who? Do you want to tell us who?"

He nodded and stood abruptly to pace. "I did something really stupid last night that I really need you to talk me out of."

"What, Harry?!" the married couple asked, both sitting on the edges of their seats.

He looked at each of them in turn before he sighed out, "I began an affair with Draco Malfoy."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed. _**-DMH**_


	3. Fantastically Bad Decisions

Harry sat in his home, trying hard to figure why Ginny had taken half of his Quidditch memorabilia.

Yes, he understood that some of it was her, seeing as she had played for the Harpies for the first ten years of their marriage. However, most of the collector's items displayed were his. The bludger that had broken his arm along with a few ribs during his stint as a Chudley Cannons seeker, the pot of gold trophy he had gotten in an Irish tournament, and the first snitch he had ever caught. He hadn't cared about the other things much, but the snitch, he needed the snitch.

He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his tired face. "How did I let it get like this?"

"Did I come at the wrong time, Potter?" Harry looked up to see his new lover's face in the fireplace before him. "I'll come back later."

"No! No, that's alright," the brunet told him hastily. "Come on in."

Draco smiled and in a flash of emerald green flames, he stepped from the fireplace, brushing shoot and ashes from his otherwise spotless light grey robes. "Forgive me for just barging in like this, but I've just had a terrible day at the Ministry and I really needed to relax."

"So you came here?" Harry asked, amazed as Draco sat beside him.

"Well, insulting other people who are worse off than me always makes me feel better, so naturally I thought of you," Draco replied, leaning forward to capture the other's lips before they could spit out an insult in response. They kissed slowly, exploring one another's mouths with their tongues as hands went about exploring one another's bodies. Harry found himself pressed back onto the couch, his hands under those soft grey robes, and he moaned and arched into every new touch and taste. "Harry, you're so responsive."

"Um, thank you," he answered awkwardly, biting his lip as Draco's hot mouth moved to his sensitive neck. It took everything in him not to yelp and beg for the blond to slip inside his body. "I think we should end this."

"End what? You want to get right down to it, don't you Potter, my little sex kitten," Draco growled into his ear, sending shivers shooting through him, but he shook his head and pulled away.

The blond stared at him for a moment and reached out, becoming shocked when his advances were swatted away. "I mean this affair. I don't think we should go through with this affair."

Draco sighed and stood. He pulled his robes off with a flourish, revealing a sinfully tight pair of black trousers tucked into knee high black leather boots. A matching vest was wrapped around his thin torso and it lay over a snowy white shirt, cuffed at the wrists with silver crescent moons. "Please, explain."

Harry gulped as he took in the sight the other man made and shook his head to clear it. "I was talking to Hermione and Ron this morning - "

"What the hell do the Weasleys know?" the blond snapped out, reaching out to snatch Harry around the waist and he kissed every inch of the man he could. "Do they have any idea of what I could do to you? Do you?"

"Well . . . yes. I went into detail about the situation," Harry said, gasping in relief when Draco slowly pulled away to look at him.

"You what?"

"I told them everything."

"What do you mean by everything?"

"They know that we've had sex and they know that we've decided to begin an affair," he revealed. Silver eyes gave him a harsh, arched look and Draco bit his lip in thought.

"What did they say?"

"Well, I kind of wanted them to talk me out of a relationship with you."

"What?!"

Harry winced as Draco's arms tightened around him and he began to tell what happened earlier in the day.

* * *

"_I began an affair with Draco Malfoy."_

_For a moment, the couple did nothing but stare at their best friend; Hermione looked as if she had just been smacked in the face and her husband looked to have just woken up from a bad dream. Harry bit his lip nervously and sat down, threading his fingers through his hair. Hermione was worrying her lip also, but Ron's expression had yet to change. Finally, the redhead opened his mouth to respond, but found he had absolutely nothing to say. Hermione then squeaked. Then Ron burst into laughter._

"_You're not kidding, are you?" Harry shook his head slowly as he watched his friend wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. "Well, shit . . . Go for it."_

"_What?!" Harry and Hermione snapped at the same time, each gaping at the man._

_Ron shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't see anything wrong with it."_

"_Ron, you don't talk for five minutes," Hermione ordered. He opened his mouth to protest, but with another shout of "Five minutes!" he quieted down. She nodded at her silent husband, then patted her sleep-wild hair in a civilized manner before adjusting herself on the couch to face Harry. "Harry, I think that you may want to reconsider this."_

"_Well," Harry sighed. "I guess you're right . . . but what is there to reconsider? She left me."_

"_There may have been a very valid reason for that, Harry," Hermione told him, ignoring the instant glare that erupted on his face after that statement. "She was lonely."_

_He softened his look and gazed down at the fidgeting hands on his lap. "I know."_

"_That's bullshit!" Ron gasped after a moment, as if the words had been steadily building up inside him. Hermione threw a pillow in his face._

"_If you haven't noticed, _Ronald_, it has only been thirty seconds. Now kindly shut up."_

"_No 'Mione, I just don't think you're right," the redhead informed her. Her mouth fell open and she sat back and crossed her arms. He turned to his friend, his face somber and said, "Ginny never really liked you."_

"_Ron! What a thing to say!" Hermione gasped._

"_It's true!" he insisted, looking to his wife, then Harry once more. "She was always complaining. Even in the beginning of your marriage when things were-" He made air-quotes. "-'happy.'"_

"_Why . . . Why would she do that?" the man asked._

"_Because you're Harry Potter and you wanted her. She couldn't just say no to you, Harry."_

"_Well, she should have," the brunet snapped back._

_Ron shook his head and shrugged. "I'm sure she loves something about you, but not enough to-"_

"_Take her out of her loneliness," Hermione finished for her husband. "She needed attention from you that you just didn't give her because-"_

"_She's a spoiled brat," Ron supplied. "Forget about the stupid reason she left you, Harry, and focs on moving on. Fuck Malfoy and be happy."_

_Harry turned to Hermione who just sighed deeply and closed her eyes tightly. "I agree with Ron."_

* * *

"They really said that?" Draco asked, twirling his fingers in the hair of the long silvery-blond ponytail hanging over his shoulder with a half-smile. Harry nodded. "Then why do you want to dump me?"

"I want to . . . I dunno."

A silver brow rose as Draco frowned. "You want her back."

"No, I didn't say that."

"It's implied, you idiot." The blond stood and moved to the fireplace. "Fine, if you want her back, I'll step out of the way. Even though she's fucking Longbottom and spreading rumors about how you ruined your marriage and fucking Longbottom, I will go so that you are free to take your slut back."

"Don't you dare speak of her that way," Harry warned as he rose from the couch. "You know nothing about our relationship."

"True, but I know a lot about her," Draco said softly, lifting the jar of floo powder from the mantelpiece.

"What are you implying?"

"Other than your wife is a slut? I dunno, maybe that she's horribly wrong for you and she's a catty little bitch that got in my face the other day about wanting to fuck her husband."

"She did what?"

"She visited me three days ago and told me to stay away from you," the blond revealed, peeking into the jar. "I was sitting in my office at the Ministry and she strolled in and told me that she did not want me going after you. I had no idea what the hell she was talking about, but apparently she had the idea that once she left you, I would go after you, a man I have wanted for more than half of my lifetime."

"What?"

"Obviously, Potter, she did not want you to have an affair with me after she left you, which means she wants you still."

"And just when did you figure all this out?!" Harry gasped.

The blond shrugged and set the jar down. "As soon as she told me to stay away from you. I mean, she came out of nowhere with that. Why would I go after you knowing that you were married _unless _she planned for you to be available soon."

"And then you seduced me so that there was never a chance for me to get back with her ever again?"

"You're missing the point," Draco sighed. "That bitch planned for you to chase her around. Who the hell does that?"

"You ruined my marriage!"

"And I'll do it again, Potter. I don't give a fuck," came the cold reply as Harry was pushed back onto the couch. The blond straddled him and kissed his ear softly. When Draco spoke next, his breath was warm against the other's ear and his voice was soft and deep. "I want you and she's given me the perfect opportunity to have you. Don't deny me this just because you want a woman who was willing to manipulate you just to get what she wanted."

"You manipulated me, too," Harry sighed as his shirt was pulled up and over his head. Draco swiftly took his lips and he found his hand snaking around the blond's slender waist.

"Yes, but you expect that of me."

"True," Harry replied as they slowly sunk into one another.

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning with a blond head lying on his chest. He stared up at the ceiling and frowned. This was a bad decision.

Draco moved slightly and, somehow, his silky knee was pressed against Harry's steadily hardening groin.

This was a bad decision, but it felt fantastic.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Please don't ask me why Harry is still with Draco after all this. That will be revealed in the next chapter. Tell me what you think. _**-DMH**_


	4. Bloody Fantastically Useless

"Hello, Mister Johnson," Draco said in morning greeting to Harry's penis before swallowing it whole.

Harry closed his eyes and bit his knuckle, trying hard not to focus on the amazing mouth building an orgasm deep within him, but instead trying to recall why any of this was a good decision. He should be out begging for his wife back . . . At least for the good of the children. They had three kids, each of them at the age where anything that went wrong in their lives now could be extremely traumatizing . . . Like walking into Mummy and Daddy's bedroom and seeing Daddy being blown helpless by a man. Luckily, the boys were at school and Lily was with her aunt and uncle and Draco was lapping happily away on his testicles unbeknownst to the world.

Finally, he came and the blond crawled up onto his lap, the tips of his long, shiny strands of hair playing against Harry's knees and they kissed and rubbed against one another for a moment until Draco crawled back out of his lap and went to the bathroom. Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. What the hell was he doing? Here he was, in the bed he shared with his wife and now his lover thinking about how to get his wife back when the lover was singing _Love in This Club_ off key in the other room.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong?" Draco asked as he leaned nude against the doorway Ginny had never been nude against. He climbed back onto the bed and stroked a hand down Harry's face. "I have to be at work in an hour, but I'm sure I have time to listen to your listless whines of how horrible your life is."

"You're sweet," the brunet said, rising from his bed. "But you don't have to. Go, get ready for work."

The blond stared at him as he walked gingerly to the bathroom, the brunet wincing slightly as he rubbed his lower back before getting up and following. "Seriously, Potter. What's up? I feel like this is my fault."

"It is," Harry said simply, turning on the shower. "But you wouldn't care either way, would you?"

"Now, just wait a bloody minute – "

"Why should I?"

"Harry, listen to me," Draco pleaded, his hand pulling the other's arm before he had the chance to step into the shower.

"I listened to you very well last night," Harry said, his green eyes glittering with the newfound rage within him he was quite happy to find. "You have intentionally ruined my marriage to a woman I love. You have destroyed my children's family and you have not once thought of the consequences."

"How dare you spit out such total bullocks, Potter! Do you forget that I'm going through the same damn thing with Pansy and that I have a child? And you have no idea what I think and it's quite obvious that you will never get your head far out of your arse enough to even realize what the fuck I'm putting out on the table. Fuck you, Potter, and the broomstick you rode in on!" Draco hissed as he flung Harry's arm away and rushed from the room. The door slammed shut behind him and all Harry heard for the next few moments were various crashes and a faint _pop_.

* * *

"Well, it looks like Malfoy is set on ruining your life," Ron said as he stared at the mess of Harry's office. "Looks like the work of a lover scorned to me."

"Shut up, Ron," Harry sighed as he picked up his various broken, yet still squealing dark magic detectors from the floor. Seemed like they were all destroyed by dark magic, bloody fantastically useful they were. Harry chided himself because he just knew coming to the Ministry on a Sunday afternoon was a bad decision, but Ron had insisted they get the paperwork on the Exploding Urinals done quickly. It seemed that someone had taken the cases of exploding toilets from years ago to heart and were now using other bathroom assets to assassinate Muggle public officials. Yes, this is exactly where Harry wanted to be on Sunday afternoon, knee deep in a mess of papers and whirling, screaming junk thinking of the attempt on the Prime Minister's life via a toilet basin freshener rather than curled up at home, snuggled up to a nice blo – the redhead he loved. "Shit."

"What's wrong, mate?"

"Do you think Draco really did this?"

"Oh, most definitely," Ron said with a nod. "He did get mad at you this morning, didn't he? And Slytherins are all for the sneaky revenge things, aren't they? And he's always, always at work, isn't he?"

"He is up here a majority of his time," Harry agreed. "Maybe, I should go visit him."

"Maybe," Ron concurred, wiggling his reddish-gold eyebrows in a lewd fashion.

"Pervert," the brunet said before slipping out of the room with Ron's chuckle behind him. He opted to walk down the Ministry's practically empty hallways instead of making use of the elevators. He feared his stomach would not be able to take the speed of it and the walk also gave him time to think about what he wanted to say to the blond. For some strange reason, he wanted to apologize, to propose that they make up and go back as they were; both lovers and rivals. He winced at his thoughts. That couldn't possibly be a good idea. There was still the looming Ginny factor and he was rather uncomfortable with just being in a relationship dominated by sex . . . even though that was sort of nice . . .

When he finally reached Draco's office, a large room located in the Treasury wing of the building, he noticed that no secretary adorned the small desk in front of it, but he did not think it strange. It was Sunday afternoon after all. He walked slowly to the large, polished doors and he raised his hand to knock, but he heard voices and dropped his hand. He silently berated himself for reverting to eavesdropping, but it was such a familiar phenomenon with Draco that he told himself he didn't care.

"Pansy, I just don't know what to do," Draco said on the other side of the door. Pansy? Why was he talking to Pansy?

"Perhaps pouting and acting like his ex-wife is not the best course of action, hmm?" a soft, sultry voice that Harry did not register with Pansy Parkinson said. He was used to their school days when it was high 

pitched, shrill, and annoying. Now she spoke as if she was completely dipped in warm chocolate. She spoke as if she was trying to seduce his lover – er – her future ex-husband. "I told you the plan you proposed was not a good idea."

"Whatever," Draco hissed and Harry could hear the sneer in his voice. "It was all I could think of to do when that bitch came at me like that. And it's not like it wasn't hard to seduce him –" Harry frowned. "–I thought it might work, but it seems he wants to go back to her, the conniving, plant humping, snarky little bitch."

Pansy's cultured laughter rang out and Draco's joined it and Harry got the vision of the two of them laying butt naked across his desk just yucking it up. He grimaced and shook the thought out of his head.

"I think it's best for you to just leave him alone for now," the woman said after the laughter died down. "Give him some breathing space. Besides, Scorpius and I miss you at home." Harry's frown only deepened; that witch was seriously trying to get Draco back!

"That's not my home anymore."

"You won't even consider coming back?" she asked. Harry just knew that she was pouting.

"Pansy, you knew what would happen if I ever got the chance to be with him."

"Does that just mean you'll let our marriage crumble even if he patches things up with the Weasley?" she gasped.

"I have to chance it," Draco sighed. "I just want him so much."

All was silent for a moment, but finally Pansy let out her own sigh. "Fine. Go on your wild goose chase. Keep hoping for something that was never and will never be yours. Destroy your son's life. I don't care."

"I don't love you like I love him," Draco just replied softly and Harry listened as Pansy burst into tears.

* * *

"And I think he was talking about me, but he may have been speaking of his son, but then why would Pansy burst into tears that way over her own son and –"

"Okay, Harry. Shut up. I think we've already established that Draco loves you without all your dramatics. Now shut up and drink some tea," Ron told him as he set the tray down on his coffee table and took his place beside his wife on the sofa. Hermione was frowning in worry for their closest friend, but the redhead patted her knee reassuringly. "How's the tea?"

Harry nodded as he set the delicate cup down on its saucer. "I thought it was just sex."

"Me too," Ron said. "Oh well, perhaps this could help you move on from Ginny."

"What?!" Harry and Hermione just asked simultaneously. The trio had just spend the better part of an hour discussing Ginny's manipulative behavior, the way she supposedly told Draco to stay away from Harry, and her affair with Neville. Harry wiped his glasses off and put them back on so he could stare at his best friend clearly. "What?"

"You need to move on from Ginny," Ron told him.

"From what it sounds like, I need to go get her back," he replied.

"Why would you want her back?"

"Love maybe?!"

"Love, smuve," Ron said with a careless wave of his hand and earned a smack in the head from his wife. "Sorry, luv. I'm just saying that she's just attention seeking. If she's willing to divorce you just to get you to gravel at her feet, she doesn't deserve you."

Harry stared at the other man with wide eyes as Hermione turned to face her husband. "I'm starting to believe you don't like your sister."

Ron narrowed his sky blue eyes at her. "If you haven't noticed, I don't like any of my siblings." As Hermione shook her head at him, he turned to his friend. "Listen, mate, I know this is hard for you with the kids and Ginny going on a rampage, but I think you should just give Malfoy a chance. I think his feelings may be genuine."

"What? Are you the Malfoy Avenger or something?" Hermione snapped. Ron opened his move to say something, but she snarled, "Shut up!" He opened his mouth again and caused her to growl through clinched teeth, "Five minutes!" She turned to Harry herself. "I don't know where Ronald's mind has gone, but I think you should take both Ginny and Draco into consideration. They have both plotted to gain your attention and neither of them can rightfully claim that they are the good guy in this situation."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I just need to ask one more question." Both Weasleys looked at him imploringly. "Is it possible to be in love with two people at the same time?"

* * *

Ron had flat out told him no, earning a smack from Hermione for not staying in his no speaking time limit, but the bushy-haired witch had merely told him to keep his options open. He agreed with her, but why was he now sitting in front of his fireplace, debating whether or not to stick his head in the flames for the sake of flooing Draco or just stick his head in the flames for the sake of sticking his head in the flames. Finally, after what seemed like hours of contemplating, he grabbed a fistful of shimmering dust and tossed it into the scarlet ribbons before him.

As usual, the trip for his head into another fireplace was not a comfortable one, but Harry ignored the urge to pull back when he saw Draco's slumped form hanging across his desk at the Ministry. "Draco?"

The blond looked up and around his office to see where the voice originated before he finally looked to the fire. He rose from his chair and crouched onto the floor to look at the other. "What?"

"You alright?"

"No."

"Me neither," Harry said softly. They continued to stare at one another in silence, even as sweat began to trail down both their faces. Finally, Harry whispered, "Do you want to come over?"

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was pinned to his couch with a mouth ripping away the buttons of his shirt, only to reveal his bronze nipple and nibble on that. He gasped at the sensation and whimpered when it went away, but allowed himself to be flipped over so that he was draped across the arm of the couch with his knees pressed against the cushions. Draco was right behind him, kissing his ear, whispering naughty words as he yanked the brunet's pants and boxers down. He slicked up his fingers with a simple spell from his wand before tossing the sliver of wood carelessly aside and he circled those warm, teasing fingers around his lover's entrance.

"Draco, now," Harry pleaded. Those fingers probed him slowly, pushed fully into him slowly, pumped in and out of him slowly, stroked his sweet spot so, so slowly and he was about to lose his mind when the fire suddenly erupted and two figures stepped out.

"Had I known fingers up the ass could have solved everything, I might have tried it," Ginny said glumly as Neville blushed beside her.

"Well, you could always try it with Neville," Draco suggested as the man he was kneeling behind scrambled to adjust his clothing. "I know from experience that he likes it."

Three pairs of eyes looked at the flushing man, who only turned an even deeper shade of red.

"How dare you bring _him_ into my home," Harry snarled at his wife.

She glared right back at him. "How dare you fuck _him_ on the couch my great aunt gave to us!"

"What do you want?!" Harry growled back as he rose from the couch.

"Yeah, what _do_ you want?" Draco purred as he stood and wrapped his arms around his lover. "You interrupted us at a bad time. We were just getting started."

Harry shrugged him away and took a step to the side as the blond and the redhead sneered at one another. "Ginny, what do you want from me?"

"It's not what I want, Harry," she said, taking Neville's hand and entwining their fingers. "It's what I must have."

Harry stared at those twisted fingers and suddenly wished for those strong arms back around him once more, but Draco made no such move. "What?"

The witch pulled a piece of parchment from her robes and presented it to him.

"I'm taking the children."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Ooo! Don't you just hate her! _**-DMH**_


	5. Lonely and Never Alone

Harry looked down at the pristine white parchment his wife held out to him and, for the first time in a long time, could find no words to say. He had not expected this; not from Ginny. He supposed that he just did not want to see her ad Ron told him she was. This Ginny was not the one he had married. She was not the Ginny he had known since he was young. This was a different Ginny; so completely different, yet so unsurprising. He was angered, saddened, and shaken, yes, but he was not shocked . . . because he had created this Ginny. He had made her what she was today and, with this realization, he suddenly wished to be alone to mourn his marriage and mourn the woman he loved.

"You amaze me at the levels of bitch you hit with each of our meetings, Weasley," Draco snarled from behind him, gaining his attention from the parchment still held out to him. The blond tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully. "Or is it still Potter? Or will you be Longbottom?" He tilted his head and scanned the redhead's body up and down, pausing at her hips. "The name suits you rather well already, but since Neville has bent over for every Tom, Dick, and Draco –" Neville gasped and took a step back as Ginny's eyes widened. "– your relationship with him is obviously fake, so I guess I'll just call you what you truly are; a whore."

"How dare you!" Ginny snapped, dropping the parchment as she grabbed for her wand. Harry hastily stepped between her and Draco, but the tip of the wood still aimed between light grey eyes. "If anyone is the whore, it's you! Stealing my husband the way you did!"

"Yes, Draco Malfoy: Husband Stealer, that's what they call me; traveling the land and stealing the husbands away from every orange-headed bimbo that leaves them," the blond said dryly and gold sparks exploded into his face with the woman's anger.

"Stop this!" Harry urged, but was ignored as Ginny stepped closer and caused him to be sandwiched between her and his lover. Tears were streaming down her face by now and she had unconsciously lifted a hand between Harry and her that clutched tightly to the front of his shirt.

"I told you to stay away from him! I told you, you bastard! I wouldn't have to do all of this if you had just stayed away!" she wailed, more sparks flying in Draco's face. "You're sick! You're obsessed with him and that's the only reason you're doing this!"

Harry felt the other man stiffen against his back and heard a sharp intake of air. "Don't you dare make it seem like I have some sick fascination with Harry like you do, you little bitch."

"I _love_ him!"

"You want to own him like a pet!"

"You've manipulated him into this sick relationship you have!"

"And you're just pissed that you can't manipulate him into giving a fuck about you!"

"STOP IT!" The feuding pair looked between them at the shaking man. Harry was trembling in an attempt to hold back tears, but they were fighting him just as fiercely. "I've had enough of this." Draco 

made an odd noise in the back of his throat and stepped away, rubbing the reddening area on his face as he did, but Ginny still held fast to Harry. Their eyes met and Harry shook his head before looking away once more. "I'm sorry that I could not love you in the way you needed me to, Ginny. I'm sorry I was not there for you."

"You put work before me," she whispered through her growing number of tears, as if it was a secret.

"I did," he agreed numbly. "I didn't know I could hurt you so badly . . . You were the first person to love me and . . . and I destroyed it."

"I still love you," she whimpered, dropping her wand and running her now free hand over Harry's tearstained cheeks. "I still love you."

"You don't know me anymore. You don't know me to love me." Ginny dropped both of her hands from him and took a step back, gaping at him as if she had seen a horrendous sight. Her hands were shaking violently and she balled them into fists to get them into control. Her anger seemed to return with the gesture and she snatched up the legal parchment and threw it into Harry's face.

"I suggest you get a fucking good arguer," she snapped. "Because I'm taking my babies . . . and I'll never let you see them again."

"Get out, bitch!" Draco snapped as Harry's back went rigid. The redhead glared at him, but said nothing as she snatched Neville by the wrists and the pair disappeared into the flames. Draco's shoulders slumped as they left and he turned back to his forlorn looking lover. "Harry."

"I don't want to talk to you," the brunet said coldly, his emerald eyes wide with pain. "I cannot talk to you right now."

"Harry," Draco gasped, taking a step closer, but the other held his hand up to stop him.

"I need to see my daughter right now. I haven't . . . She's been over Ron's house for awhile and I need to see her. I just can't talk to you right now." Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We'll talk later, alright?"

"Alright," the blond said softly, aching to take the other in his arms, aching for the ability to take the man's pain away. He bit his lip instead and forced himself to turn to the flames himself.

* * *

"Hi Daddy."

"Hello, my love."

The nine year old dropped her doll and bounded into her father's open arms. "Daddy, I missed you. Can I come home?"

"You don't like staying with your aunt and uncle?" Harry asked, rubbing his face into the wild, red hair that smelled like bubble gum.

"I do! I do! Auntie 'Mione makes Perky Pink Pumpkin Pancakes and she says that if I say it fast enough, I get whip cream on top and then Uncle Ron grumbles about pink pancakes and Auntie 'Mione stays home with me and we make pink potions and then . . . and then . . . OH! Daddy, I have a surprise for you!"

"You do?" Harry asked, beaming into the girl's glittering brown eyes. "Lemme see it."

"'Kay!" She pulled from the man's arms and ran across the room before running back. "Close your eyes!"

He obeyed and even covered them with his hands, occasionally peeking through to her giggled dismay.

"Keep them closed!" she warned. He smiled warmly when he felt her crash into him a moment later from running too fast in socks on a wooden floor. "Oops!"

"You've seemed to have inherited your uncle's clumsiness," Harry laughed as the pair crouched on the floor to inspect her surprise. She stuck her tongue out at him along with her surprise. He took the oddly wrapped object – it seemed to be half constructed with Spellotape – and examined it with faux scrutinizing eyes. "I wonder what it is."

"It's a picture!" she shouted, then immediately clapped both hands over her eager mouth. "I mean . . . I dunno! Open it!"

He laughed and began tearing away at the tape and paper, finally revealing the picture. A sigh of relief came from the back of his throat when he realized the picture was not of Ginny and himself, but of Lily and her siblings. "This is very nice, darling, but what is it for?"

"I just thought . . . I thought . . ." Harry frowned when he heard the unusually outspoken child's voice falter rather quietly. "I thought you just might want it . . . You seem . . . And I don't want you to be lonely and forget my face when I go to school!"

"In two years?" he chuckled, ashamed that he was half-happy that she had not fully finished her statement. "I won't forget your face, gumdrop."

"I know, Daddy," she said, wrapping her arms tight around his neck so that he was forced to return the embrace. "Look! And I made the frame green 'cuz . . . 'cuz of your eyes and 'cuz it's Mummy's favorite color."

"It _is_ Mummy's favorite color, isn't it?"

"Yup! So you guys have that and you get to see me and Alby and James everyday even when all of us are not there!" Harry gaped down at her, almost brought to tears by her thoughtfulness. Ginny had taught her that . . . Had taught her to care. "So you won't be lonely! Mummy said that you should never be lonely."

"Me?"

Shining brown eyes shimmered up at him from a lightly freckled face amidst the wild red hair. "Mummy said that you were lonely before she met you and that she would never let you be lonely again."

* * *

Harry dragged himself to bed sometime around three in the morning. He had work in four hours, but he knew he would not be up to it. He would probably have to owl Ron about it or take a Pepper-Up Potion or strangle Neville just to have the drive to move in the morning. He was exhausted without being exhausted; as if he was watching a tired form of himself go through the motions from another place. He had spent half the night watching Lily sleep in her little bed. She had wanted to come home so badly, so he consented and took her there, even though her mother was not there. He dreaded the moment he had to explain to her why, but the child had never asked about her mother's whereabouts . . . or even why the house was so bare.

So, he had urged her to sleep, promising that she could visit her Granny Molly in the morning, and sang her a soft lullaby he had not sung to her since she was four or five. She did not question him, instead hummed along with his slightly off tone, whispered tune and closed her eyes. He watched her sleep and was riveted to how much she looked like Ginny. Practically everything about her was like Ginny . . . or at least had been. He had torn that part out of Ginny . . . had changed her . . .

"You look glum."

He shot up in his bed and snapped his attention to the open window, his wand pointed at the source of sound in his otherwise silent room. The sight of a shimmering silver owl surprised him. It sat perched on his window sill and tilted its head at him.

"You look glum," it repeated in an echoing, familiar voice.

"Draco?" he asked cautiously, lowering his wand. The owl nodded and flew to the foot of his bed and the brunet vaguely wondered if this was Draco was an Animagus, but when he noticed how silver and transparent the owl was he shook the thought away. "A patronus?"

"What did you think it was?" the owl asked. Even the man's patronus smirked at him and he blushed hotly.

"I thought you were the ghost of Hedwig for a moment," he joked as the large fowl moved closer to him, it's large, silver eyes blinking at him blindly and yet seeing right through him.

"Hedwig?" The owl's head almost twisted completely upside down.

"My owl from school."

"Oh," the bird said in his lover's voice, this time completely twisting its head upside down.

"So . . . do you need something?" he asked, suddenly nervous at the sound of silence.

The glowing bird's feathers seemed to have ruffled, but he smoothed them rather quickly. "I thought you would be asleep by now and I just wanted to check that you were alright, but you look . . ."

"Glum?" he provided and the owl nodded. "Draco, don't worry about me."

"Malfoy's do not worry," the owl tsked. "We care for the welfare of others."

"Malfoy's care for the welfare of others?" he asked disbelievingly.

"Oh shut up. Are you sure you're alright? You never really answered me."

"I'm fine, Draco."

The large owl finally hopped into his lap and lifted a wing to gently brush the hair from his forehead. He shivered at the feeling of Draco's magic, both warm and chillingly strong. "Harry . . ."

"Don't worry or, uh, care so much about the welfare of me, alright?"

"I can't help it," the owl admitted. Harry stroked a finger down the creature's soft side and Draco gasped. "Stop fondling my magic, Potter."

Harry laughed and lay back, allowing the owl to peer down at his smiling face. "I'm fine now, Draco. Thank you. You should go now."

"I don't believe you. Tell me what's on your mind so that I can get back to sleep."

"Nobody told you to wake up," the other protested blandly. The owl blinked at him. "And nothing's wrong!"

"Don't lie."

"Fine then, I won't," he vowed, sitting up and pushing the patronus off his lap. He ignored Draco's slightly muted curses and squared his shoulders. "I wanted to leave this alone until tomorrow, but, as always, you manhandled me into this situation." For a moment, Harry could have sworn that the silver fowl blushed. "I do not want to be with you anymore."

"Too bad," Draco snapped back without missing a beat. "I'm not letting you be alone." Harry blanked at the word and looked down at his lap. The owl hopped closer to him and twisted its head down until its eyes met with his. "I'm not leaving you alone."

_Mummy said that you should never be lonely._

He felt something gathering in the back of his throat and behind his eyes and did not realize until Draco's gasp that it was a series of sobs. "Alright . . . I don't really want to be alone, anyway."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Well, this is about the suckiest summer ever, but I've managed to write this, so it can't be that bad. Do you believe that I've had to rewrite this chapter three times! And each time changed that freakin' storyline! And my favorite exboyfriend has a new girlfriend! Okay, so that has nothing to do with the story, but it still makes this the suckiest summer ever, but I recently got laid, so that's alright, right? I know, I know, TMI DMH, but it was pretty freakin' good and I wanted to brag. Don't worry; it wasn't the favorite ex for anyone who cares. Anywho, away from the author's personal life, I found myself rather angry at Draco because I realized that his actions were more manipulative than Ginny's and that made me disappointed. However, we all must face that Draco was, is, and will always be a sneaky Slytherin bastard and even though we love him . . . he's a snake. Now, I just need to figure out how to make Harry fall in love with the snake rather than the woman he has just realized he had been neglecting. Someone had pointed out at me in a review for either this story or another one that I make Ginny and Pansy either bitches or less than lovable characters. Well, I like Pansy, but not Ginny and I now realize that I need to be fair and tone the bitch down, so hopefully I did that by the revealing of Ginny's emotions on the situation. I hope you all interpreted that fight with Draco the way I wanted you to. So, Harry's in a huge dilemma where he has to choose between a bad guy and a bad guy when he has been the bad guy himself. I'm not sure if you all like the story or not, but things are sure shaping up the way I hoped.

Anywho, this is possibly the longest author's note I written and that's probably because I have not been able to answer reviews with the stealing of the internet and all. So I hope I've answered any future questions right now and I'll do the same for the next chap. Thanks for reading.

**PS!**

To my little wittle silly billy Wheezy D, aka **WiseDraco** aka the other half of my brain aka MC Chimichanga Mama (okay, so I've never called you that before, but I miss you so much I'm losing my mind!) I'm writing _Stars_ right now and I'm dedicating it to you and it will be the sappiest, fluffiest thing ever 'cuz I know you love that! And I cannot remember if I reviewed _Wrong Side of the Bed_ or not, so I wanna tell you now that I love that story almost as much as I love you! Love you!

_**-DMH**_

(Whew, I can talk like nobody's business!)


	6. Coaxing a Firestarter

"What did you say to me, you spawn of Satan?" Harry asked the eleven year old glaring up at him with steely grey eyes. The short blond crossed his arms over his puffed out chest and lifted his chin, a trick he appeared to have acquired from his father in order to enhance the glare.

"I said," the child said, "My mum says that you are the reason Father has left her and I vow to bring him back to her in any way possible and if that means lying, cheating, seducing, or killing you, I will succeed."

"Scorpius, be a darling and get Daddy a bag of biscuits from the kitchen. I'm sure you know where they are," Draco said softly upon entering the room. His exact replica bestowed Harry with a final scathing look and walked past his father into the other room. Harry frowned at his little back until he disappeared around a corner. "Picking fights with children now, eh Potter?"

"I said no more than two words to the boy before he began spouting off at the mouth with all that nonsense," the brunet replied, plopping down on Draco's living room sofa. "I take it he does not approve of our relationship."

"Oh, definitely not. How could you tell?" Draco chuckled, taking a seat on the armrest beside Harry. "And I do not approve of being called 'Satan'. Lucifer maybe, but Satan? Not so much."

Harry laughed and settled back into the cushions. As soon as his body relaxed and his eyes closed, he felt long, cool fingers thread through his hair and caress his scalp.

"Thank you, Scorpius," he heard Draco say and though the fingers were still massaging him, he heard the tell-tale crunch of cookies being devoured. And then a booted foot kicked his shin.

"Sonofabitch!"

"Oh, so not only am I the Devil, but a bitch, too," Draco inquired drily as Harry rubbed his leg and glared at the child who kicked him.

"Stop touching my father," the boy said.

"First of all, you tiny git, he was touching me and second of all, you're a tiny git," Harry snarled and before his reflexes could save him, his other shin was injured. "OW!"

"Stop taunting the child, Harry," Draco chided, pushing Harry's shoulder to get him to move over and sliding into the previously occupied seat. He raised a silver brow to his son and the boy at least had the decency to look ashamed; Draco was delighted he had even learned to blush on cue. "Come here, boy."

Scorpius stepped up to him, his shoulders hunched and his lip sticking out. "Yes, Father."

"Now, Scorpius. Didn't I go through the trouble of bringing you home _all the way_ from Hogwarts to spend a weekend with me?"

"Yes, Father."

"And didn't I spoil you with presents and love upon you first arrival home _since Christmas_?"

"Yes, Father."

"And you repay me by torturing _my_ boyfriend and _your_ future stepfather?"

"Yes, Father," the boy replied, his voice no more than a whisper, but the evil glance he had shot to the blushing Harry made his thoughts loud and clear. _'Over your dead body . . .'_

"Future stepfather?" Harry snapped. Draco looked at him and nodded. "No way."

"Yes way, you moron. If we get married, you'll be Scorpius' stepfather," Draco snarled back as his son gave a real pout.

"I'll marry you, but no way is that demon going to be granted the title of stepchild. I do not want to be responsible for that!" Harry yelled, his arms flying into the air for emphasis.

Draco's expression suddenly went flat and he stared at the other man with wide, mercury eyes. "You'll marry me?"

The brunet's own eyes went wide and he covered his mouth as if able to cork the words back in. He had not meant it that way. Of course, he knew Draco was joking about marriage, teasing his own son, but for Harry to let a phrase like that slip . . . and just when they had decided to expand their relationship.

Harry had had a long conversation about relationships with the owl that night that resulted of Draco flooing over there and the pair falling asleep on the couch, curled up against one another. Horrors upon horrors occurred when Lily had found them that way the next morning, but the child did not question them when they frantically scrambled for an explanation; she just demanded a proper introduction to Draco. Harry had been relieved to have not needed to explain everything right away. He would wait until he had Lily to himself, but she was currently over her aunt and uncle's place and he was stuck with Draco and his clone, who were both gaping at him, waiting for an answer.

Harry spared Scorpius a nervous glance before turning his attentions to Draco. "I . . . I don't think I'm ready to talk about this just yet. I mean, I'm just barely divorced and we've only begun this relationship thing just a week ago and . . ."

"I understand, Potter," Draco said gruffly, looking away to inspect his hands. "Forget we ever said anything about it."

"I'll sure try to," Scorpius huffed under his breath and was cuffed on the ear for it by his father.

"Go find some scissors to run with, won't you?" Draco said and gained his son's evil eye. The young man left the room, rubbing his ear and mumbling about the wrath of his mother when she heard about this. "Are you sure you want him to meet your daughter and nephew at dinner tonight? I do not believe he's to be trusted around children smaller than him. He tends to let power go to his head."

"I wonder where he got that from," Harry replied, relief that the sudden tension was gone evident in his voice. Draco nudged him and gave him a peck to the cheek. They held one another silently for a moment – well, as silently as one could be crunching on chocolate cookies. Finally, Harry turned to Draco and said, "I think I could love you one day."

"Do you?" Draco asked cautiously, licking crumbs from his lip, but missing a few. Harry smiled and brushed the leftovers away with his thumb.

"I'm sure."

* * *

Surprisingly, Draco was not as much of an arse as Harry expected him to be during dinner. The blond was suave and polite, he noted how big Hugo had become since he last noticed the boy and how much like his father he was growing to look like, and he only insulted Ron three times so far. However, seeing as they had only been in the Weasley home for three minutes, Harry was a tad nervous.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Draco asked as Hermione and Ron left the sitting room to get some snacks from the kitchen. The children seemed to have evaporated the moment they had stepped into the house and since neither Harry nor Draco heard screaming, they assumed they would be alright.

"Stop talking about Ron like that," Harry hissed back.

"But it's expected of me, isn't it?" the blond asked innocently, even batting his eyelashes and bringing a hand up to his chest for effect. "Or is it making you jealous. I could insult you, too, my little moronic excuse for a man."

"That's romantic and all, but quit it," the brunet snapped and Draco pouted as Hermione and Ron returned with little snacks and alcohol.

"So Draco," Hermione began. "How is your position at the Ministry working out?"

"Yeah, and what exactly do you do?" Ron added, earning Draco's chuckle.

"Well, I actually _do_ an assortment of things, but mostly it's just negotiating the terms of funding each department at the Ministry gets a year and consulting with the officials of Gringotts and several other wizarding banks in the world. The job keeps me busy, but it pleases me as well."

"That's lovely," Hermione said and Ron nodded his agreement.

"So, I'm guessing the Auror department will be getting a bit more support now, hmm?" the redhead inquired with a crooked smile that Draco returned, even though Hermione frowned.

"Why do you say that?" Draco asked, taking a sip of Firewhiskey.

"Well, you are boinking the head of the department, aren't you?"

"Ron!" both Harry and Hermione snapped, but Draco just chuckled.

"Well, he is!"

"That is true, we do boink rather frequently," Draco reiterated, leaning back in his seat and wrapping an arm around Harry. "Perhaps Harry and I can make a deal."

The brunet frowned at the deal Draco proposed in such a smooth voice, and then glared at his friend. "Stop whoring me for more paid vacation time!"

"Hey, take one for the team, Harry!" Ron laughed back.

* * *

Dinner went on without a hitch until Scorpius set the table on fire with his mind.

"I guess I should have told you that he was a Lampedes before," Draco sheepishly told his boyfriend when the commotion settled down and the table cloth was saved. "But he usually only does it when he's nervous. It's like when kids wet the bed, he'll grow out of it soon."

"I am not nervous," the child in question snapped at his father. "I just hate all of you."

"Me too?" Lily asked with a pout, her brown eyes poised to glitter with tears.

"Not you, Lily," the little prince said softly and the girl beamed. He turned to his new friend's father. "Just you specifically."

Harry answered the glare with one of his own. He was not surprised that Scorpius had the power to control fire despite how rare it was – he was, after all, the spawn of Satan – but he was a bit surprised at how well the child had taken to his own daughter and nephew, Hugo.

"Don't frown like that, Harry, you'll get wrinkles," Draco warned as Ron and his son laughed warmly. "And Scorpius, stop being a little prick when we are guests in this home. Now what do you say?"

"I'm sorry I have shamed my father by setting your belongings on fire," Scorpius said in a glum, practiced tone that indicated it was not the first time he had been forced to apologize this exact way.

"It's alright," Hermione assured him and he beamed at her. "How about you kids run along and I'll have Ron come up and bring you dessert?"

The children bolted away in seconds and left the parents to clean up the chaos they left in their wake.

"Well, that was interesting," Ron said as they all helped to bring the used dishes to the kitchen.

"I'm so sorry about all of this," Draco said. "He usually has some kind of warning signal before things go up in flames."

"What kind of warning signal?" Harry asked.

"Screaming or crying or both, but he was very quiet tonight . . . and polite."

Harry snorted. "That's what you call polite? He tried to set me on fire."

"Stop exaggerating. He succeeded in setting the table cloth beside your hand on fire. If he had tried for you, you would have been on fire," Draco said. "And yes, he's been ridiculously polite to you since you two met. I'm actually quite worried that he's plotting something."

Before Harry could open his mouth to further their argument, Hermione inquired, "How is it that he is a Lampedes? That couldn't possibly be a trained skill?"

"Well, it's actually a trait that he gained from the Black branch of my family," Draco explained as they made their way back to the living room. "The Blacks tended to marry into Pureblood families with hereditary advances, such as Metamorphmagi or Parselmouths. They believed it would make their blood all the much stronger."

"That makes sense," Harry said. "I'm just glad you didn't get anything like that."

"Oh, yes, because I would have definitely set your hair on fire during our school days," Draco laughed, his eyes twinkling all the more because he was not joking.

* * *

Sex that night with Draco was amazingly emotional for Harry. When it was finished, he collapsed on his lover's chest and shuddered from the aftermath of their lovemaking, panting heavily as he did so.

"Harry?" Draco said softly. "Harry?"

The brunet lifted his head and looked into worried silver eyes. "I'm okay, Draco."

"But you're not . . . You weren't thinking of us, were you?"

Harry shook his head and settled it back down on Draco's chest. "Do you . . ."

"Do I what?" Draco asked after a moment of silence.

"Do you think that we're moving too fast? I mean, we've only just established this relationship and already we're having dinner with my friends and our children."

"You want to slow down?"

"No," he admitted, allowing himself to be cradled against the strong chest beneath his cheek. "It's just so strange."

"It doesn't feel right?"

"No! It . . . It's perfect . . . I just . . ."

"You don't want to be with me," Draco concluded in a whisper.

"I do want to be with you . . . It just feels like I can't be with you right now."

"Because of Ginny?"

"Because of Ginny," Harry confirmed softly and was suddenly lifted into Draco's kiss.

"Shut up," Draco whispered to him. "Shut up and don't speak again until you tell me what's really wrong with you. Stop trying to leave me just because you're scared of your own feelings. Stop making it my fault that you think I'll leave you just like your wife did."

"You left Pansy without a second thought," Harry snapped.

"How did you –"

"I heard you talking to her last Sunday in your office," he told Draco.

"Then you know that I love you and would never leave you!" Draco shouted, tightening his arms as if Harry threatened to pull away from him. "I love you and I could no longer face being with that woman knowing that I loved you so much. Please, Harry, stop hurting me and just tell me what's wrong. Do you want to be with Ginny?"

"No . . . Yes! I don't know!" he snapped, tearing himself from the other's arms and crawling to the edge of the bed. Draco crawled up behind him and wrapped his strong arms around his trembling frame.

"Tell me, Harry . . . I love you and I won't leave you no matter what. I want to help you Harry . . . Please, let me."

The brunet turned to Draco, tears in his eyes, and confessed his greatest fear. "I don't think I can keep the children. She's going to take them from me and I'll never see them again."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Aww, I made myself cry. Poor Harry. What do you guys think? _**–DMH**_

**P.S.** Draco and Harry tend to have a lot of conversations in bed. Did anyone else just notice that like I did? Lol!


	7. Just the Malfoy

"Harry, don't say that," Draco said softly, tracing a pale finger through the wet path tears left behind on his lover's cheek. He moved to the edge of the bed beside the crying man and pulled Harry to his chest so that the damp cheek was pressed to his heart. Draco slowly rocked them back and forth, hoping and praying that Harry would take calmness from his actions, from the steady beat of his heart or the words he whispered into soft, dark locks. As Harry's cries died down, Draco lifted his face and bestowed it with soft kisses, small pecks of reassurance. Harry nuzzled him softly before finally sighing and laying his head down on the blond's strong shoulder.

"Thank you," the brunet whispered, his words caressing Draco's neck. The other man nodded and tightened his arms around Harry.

"Talk to me . . . I'm here," he offered, hope in his voice. Harry felt so strange; this situation was the last thing he would have expected in the world. Draco Malfoy, of all the people in the world, was comforting him, assuring him, and wiping away his tears. He was not sure if he should pull away or embrace his past rival fully. The idea of accepting this man as his own was almost as frightening as the aspect of losing his family. "Talk to me."

Harry bit his lip and thought of what to say, all the while ignoring the tears that were suddenly in his eyes and the lumps in his throat that had arrived with his tortured thoughts. "I . . . know I shouldn't think like this, but . . ."

"Are you scared?"

Harry whimpered and pushed his face into his lover's neck. He felt smooth hands run up his back and thread through his hair. His head was tipped back and lips met his gently.

"It's alright to be scared, Harry," Draco told him, holding his gaze as more tears spilled from reddening green eyes. "You know that. You just have to try your best."

"I can't be optimistic about this. I just know I'm going to lose. If we don't settle this out of court or if we do, I'll lose either way," Harry cried and Draco wiped his cheeks. "She has a good, valid case against me, Draco. She's the neglected mother of my neglected children and this is going to show! I've hardly been there for her and the children. I've always been on some bloody case halfway around the world and –"

"Harry," Draco interrupted gently. "I've seen you with Lily. You can't possibly convince me that she feels neglected or that you're a bad father. I know you love your children and Ginny knows it, too, and that's what will show."

Harry just shook his head and pulled away. He scooped his boxers up from the floor and pulled them on. Draco did the same, but when Harry continued to stand in the middle of the room, he opted to sit back down on the edge of the bed.

"She wants full custody, Harry, and, yes, as the mother of the children, she has leverage, but if you opt for shared custody, the result will be more in your favor."

"That's only if I can find a case to argue!" Harry snapped back, glaring at the other man who stared unblinkingly back.

"Do not even try to take this out on me, Potter. It's not my fault you married a bitch," the blond snarled with distain, crossing his arms.

"Take that back."

"No."

"Take it back."

"I can honestly do no such thing, Harry," the brunet was told by a cool blond absently gazing down at his fingernails. "My experience with her is that of a man butting heads with a spiteful woman. I cannot see her the way that you've seen her and I refuse to do such a thing. She's been a bitch to me and I like it that way."

"You give the worst apologies on the planet," Harry huffed.

"That wasn't an apology."

"I know," Harry said, lowering himself into a sitting position on the carpet. "I just wish you knew why I loved her."

"I wish that you knew that people change or that they were not what they always seem to be," Draco replied. "I'm sure you loved her, Harry, just as I'm sure that you still do, but you have to take into account how the two of you have changed and drifted apart from one another."

"You sound so wise," Harry chuckled bitterly.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, my mother gave me the same speech when I told her Pansy and I were divorcing. She seemed to think I was heartbroken."

"Were you?"

"A little, but I never truly loved Pansy. She's a beautiful woman in many ways, but I was never in love with her and it was rather easy to let whatever feelings I had for her go when the prospect of being with you popped up." The blond smiled then suddenly let his head fall back with laughter. "See, I couldn't possibly have told my mother this. I sound so cold and heartless."

"Well, didn't you tell her what you were going to do?" Harry offered.

The blond continued to smile. "Look at you, already making excuses for my mistakes. I'm wearing you down, Potter." Harry smiled sheepishly as Draco looked at him thoughtfully. "Harry, it's one thing to say that you're going to do something and then it's another when you actually do it. I hurt her and I knew it and there will never be anything I could ever do to make it up to her."

"She still loves you."

"I assume so and it makes me feel horrible. I feel like I've ruined her life . . . and Scorpius'."

"Scorpius?"

Draco shrugged. "He hates me for what I've done to his mother. He's so cold to me. It's like the second coming of Lucius Malfoy."

"With fire," Harry added thoughtfully.

"With fire," Draco chuckled. A pregnant silence followed their words, but neither man spoke as they stared at one another. Finally, Harry crawled back to the bed and with his hands gripping the edge, he kissed the lounging blond softly. "What was that for?"

Harry shrugged and kissed him again. "We're both just so screwed. I thought we might need this."

Draco mulled the thought over in his mind for a moment as he accepted another kiss. "I guess you're right."

* * *

"She played for the Harpies for three whole seasons after Albus was born?" Draco gasped, gaping at Harry and his two best friends as they sat around the Weasleys' kitchen table. They had been mulling through numerous records of custody cases and going over anything that could possibly help Harry.

"You make it sound like she's the Devil," Ron chuckled, smiling widely at the thought of his sister with horns, a tail, and a pitchfork . . . maybe even that thin beard and mustache.

"No, we've already established that's me," Draco responded as he scrawled something fiercely across a roll of parchment. "But she can't possibly call Harry a negligent parent when she appears to have been home for her children less than you in those years, tramping around with bloody Harpies all around the world when her newborn was at home. She has no case against you concerning negligence without looking like hypocrite herself."

"Worse, maybe," Hermione offered. "Since the children were so young when she wasn't there."

"I don't think that's fair," Harry said softly. "I wasn't there a lot of the time."

"Harry, you're my partner and if I had enough time to spend with my kids, you sure as hell did," Ron snapped. "Stop exaggerating. You were always there for the big stuff and you always Apprarated home when you were needed."

"Well, my job is dangerous. What if . . . I die," Harry said, the phrase more of a statement than a question.

"Well then, it looks like shared custody would no longer be an issue," Draco snarled, sarcasm dripping off every syllable. "Besides, Quidditch was a pretty dangerous sport and she risked it when her children needed her most."

"She doesn't play Quidditch anymore," Harry insisted. "Now is the time that counts the most. I go on three month cases and she stays home."

"When you take the long cases, Harry, Albus and James are at school with Rose and Lily and Hugo spend all their time together, either here with me or your house with Ginny," Hermione told him sternly. "Even then, they spent more time over here and they constantly talked to you through letters and the floo network."

"She can't possibly take the children away from you," Draco said before the brunet could argue any further. "You are a wonderful father and you can ask the children if they were ever wont for your affection or attention. Besides, you make the income in the family. Ginny has not worked in a few years."

"And you're Harry Potter. The name should be enough," Ron laughed as he stood and walked to a counter that had a plate of cookies on it.

"Hush, Ronald," Hermione chided.

"But he's right," Draco commented, earning shocked gazes from Harry, Hermione, _and_ Ron. "What?"

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked.

"Yea' wha'?" Ron asked through a mouthful of cookies. "I'm righ'?"

"I guess I think Ron's right," Draco confirmed, nervously glancing at the group. "Harry, your name goes a long way."

"Yeah, but I'll look like an ass for taking advantage," the man said.

"I'm sure you'll look like an ass for many other things, so no worries then," Draco said causing everyone but Harry to lapse into a fit of laughter. The laughing only ended when a loud thump and what appeared to be a small explosion sounded from above and alerted the group.

"Excuse me," Hermione said, hastily bustling out of the room and into the hall. While on the steps, they heard her calls. "Hugo, what the hell are you doing up there?!"

"Sorry, Mum!"

"Don't you 'sorry, Mum' me! Why do I smell mashed potatoes?! Oh my – Ron, get up here!"

The redhead was gone in a flash and Draco burst into laughter once more, Harry joining him.

"I never realized your friends were so funny," Draco commented absently as a few unusual thumping sounds resumed above them. Harry smiled and shrugged. The brunet pulled his glasses off and crossed his arms, leaving the thin frames dangling by his elbow. "I never realized that they could accept me or your relationship with me so easily."

Harry knew silver eyes were watching him cautiously for any sign of a wince or other telling reaction to the word "relationship" and he idly wondered about it himself, but found it did not bother him in the least. In fact, he found himself rather eager towards the relationship he knew Draco had planned for them. The blond was calculating, even devious in a sense when he set his mind to something, Harry knew this, so a relationship would be no different; Draco would learn everything there was to know about keeping him happy and he knew that he would be expected to do the same. And, considering how anal Draco was about everything, Harry suspected the blond already had the waltz they were going to dance to during their wedding reception picked out.

"Well, I guess it's easy for them to accept you," Harry replied, "because they both think you're sexy."

Draco perked up at this and twisted the end of his long ponytail with the tip of his fingers absently. "Really?"

"Don't be surprised that someone finds you sexy," the brunet laughed.

"I'm just surprised that Ron does!"

"Oh, don't be flattered," Hermione said as she came back into the room, followed by the redhead leading her son by his ear. "He'd find flannel pajamas sexy if he had the chance to stare at them for long enough."

"Not my fault you own sexy flannel," Ron chuckled, pushing his son to the kitchen sink. "Now wash up!"

It was then that Draco noticed the young man was covered in potato skins and he placed a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. "W-What happened?"

"Hugo was taught a faulty spell to create alcohol from potatoes," Hermione answered in a clipped voice so scary that Draco was almost afraid to laugh.

"I guess that went awry?"

"Only because Cousin Fred sucks," Hugo mumbled and earned a tug of his already red ear by his father.

"Is Lily covered in potato skins as well?" Harry asked with a smile.

"No, she ran in terror when the potatoes began to glow blue," Hermione said. "She's currently in our bedroom playing with Ronald's new owl, Apollo."

"Maybe we should just leave you outside until you stop smelling like potatoes," Ron suggested to his son, who glared up at him with amber eyes that clearly screamed, "No!" However, Ron just tugged the 

boy away from the sink, chucked him out the back door, and closed it. "See you tomorrow!" he said through the screen.

"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, rushing over to the door. "Don't listen to him, Hugo! We'll let you back in before tomorrow."

At this, Harry burst into laughter and bellowed at his friends until he had tears in his eyes.

Finally, after hosing of Hugo with his wand and letting the boy back upstairs, Ron settled back at the table to speak with the others about the custody hearing.

"By now, Ginny has probably already talked to Al and James about this," Harry said.

"Why do you say that?" Hermione asked. "Did they send you an owl about it?"

"Actually, no," he replied, his voice a bit down. "We usually owl back and forth at least once a week, but they haven't answered my owls or sent any themselves."

"Don't get down about it, mate," Ron told him. "They've obviously heard only one bullshit side of the story, you just need to go to the school and give them the other . . . uh, without the bullshit."

"Good one, Weasley," Draco smirked. "But I think you're right, _again_. Harry, your sons need to hear everything from your point of view. You need them to assure them that they're not losing a father just because you and their mother are no longer together."

"Is that what happened with you and Scorpius?" the brunet asked and Draco looked away before nodding slightly.

"At first, he acted like he wanted to do with me, which he still somewhat does, but then he lashed out – actually, he still does that, too. We never really got along," Draco admitted, a deep frown on his face. "But I talked to him and told him that I would always be in his life because I loved him. He just grunted at that, but he's been acting better. I did wonder for a little bit if he actually hated me or if it was just the Malfoy in him, but I'm sure it's just the Malfoy."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Another end to another chapter; one I really don't like but just had to write. I keep wanting to revise stuff and that's why it's taken so long to post. I wrote and deleted like a page of crap and still have nothing to show for it. Oh well. I think I don't like this chapter because it just cements the tone change in this story. The moods going a bit down and I think that's because the next chapter will be a little emotional with Albus and James and the custody hearing. Oh, and if anyone could just be a dear and tell me some legal mumbo jumbo and what usually goes down in a custody hearing or any kind of hearing at all, it would be much appreciated. I'll even write you a fic and all just to save the embarrassment of not knowing what the hell I'm talking about! _**-DMH**_


	8. To Hogsmeade: Revisited

"I've never been so nervous to see any of my kids since James was born," Harry admitted as Draco fiddled with his collar and attempted to bring some semblance of normal hair to his lover's wild locks. The blond pulled the glasses from Harry's worried eyes and set them aside to float in the air beside them, as if they were place on an invisible shelf. Pale, slender fingers pressed against Harry's temples and began to move, messaging the Auror into relaxation. He groaned and allowed himself to be guided towards the fireplace.

"Everything will be alright, darling," Draco assured him with a chuckle. "No need to worry or be nervous. I'm sure your first day at school will be just swell and everyone will love you on sight."

"Shut up, Draco," Harry said drily, punching the other lightly in the arm. "Give me my glasses."

The blond reached blindly behind him and plucked the frames from the air. He wiggled them to his lover, teasing a cute – albeit, annoyed – smile out of the man. Finally, he tossed the glasses back into the air and Harry caught them instinctually and placed them on his face. "Why so serious, Harry?" Draco murmured against the man's lips as he wrapped his arms around his neck and propelled the two of them towards the fireplace. Harry did not answer, only kissed; first the lips, next the cheeks and chin, and then the neck. While the brunet was distracted by his Adam's apple, Draco reached to the jar on the mantle, tossed a handful of floo powder towards the fire, and pushed Harry into the fireplace.

Once Harry realized he was not actually on fire and the only flames around him were the soft, warm green ones, he reached out and tugged Draco's braid harshly. "You ass! You scared the crap out of me!"

Draco had recovered his braid and was cradling like a child to his chest. "Don't think you can get away with that! When you come back, I'm pulling each strand of that barb wire you call hair out of your head."

"Shut up, Rapunzel."

"What's a Rapunzel?"

"A Muggle princess with long hair," Harry explained earning an offended gasp from the other.

"I am not a Muggle princess! Take that back!" the blond demanded, much as a Muggle princess would, and with a pout on his lips.

"Sorry. Don't have the time – The Hog's Head." And before Draco could respond or pull him from the emerald flames, he was swirling and spinning out of sight. After all these years, he was still reluctant to travel by any magical means other than a broom and his landing out of the Hog's Head fireplace only proved way.

"Sorry, Aberforth," he said hastily as he climbed off the man he had landed on. The elderly owner of the bar shrugged the apology off with the dust and soot he had accumulated from the other's entrance.

"No problem, Harry," he said gruffly as the worried brunet helped him to his feet. "A variation of the same thing happens more or less ever Monday."

"Really?"

"No, get the hell outta my shop!" the man said sternly a moment before bursting into a laughing fit. Harry laughed along with him, staring into twinkling blue eyes that caused a small ache in his heart and warmed it just the same. "So, how have you been, Harry? You know . . . I've been hearing some things about you."

Harry sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah. I'm here to discuss that with my boys today. Ginny does not know about and neither do they. It's like a surprise party no one wants to attend."

Aberforth chuckled softly. "Would you like a drink?"

"I'll see about that afterward, shall I?"

* * *

It had been a long while since Harry had walked the streets of Hogsmeade. The village was eclectic as always, but it was strange to follow the narrow pathways without a friend at each side or an enemy tossing a snowball in his face. It wasn't winter, but it was still strange that he half expected Draco Malfoy and his cronies to pop out behind the tea shop and pelt him with something; whether it be snowballs or a series of spells. And he really wanted a sugar quill and one of those blood flavored lollies just for the hell of it. He vaguely wondered if the place had the same effect on Ginny as he passed Rosmerta's inn, having heard his ex-wife was staying there. He turned away from the inn and continued to walk the path to the castle.

Now was not the time for nostalgia.

* * *

"I just want to take my boys out for a bit, Headmistress. Is that all right? I promise I'll return them before they're missed."

Shrewd, bespectacled eyes looked Harry square in the face. Thin lips thinned further. A spine became impossibly more rigid. And then McGonagall smiled. "Of course, Mister Potter."

Harry smiled widely and surprised the lady he admired by practically leaping over the desk between them to give her a hug and earned disapproving whispers from the portraits of the past headmasters above them. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear and she pulled away with a small smile and what appeared to be misty eyes.

"No problem at all," she told him as she stood, wrapping her emerald robes tighter around her torso and, at the same time, discreetly wiping beneath her spectacles. "I'll send for someone to fetch them."

"Oh no," Harry said hastily before she could instruct one of the nosy portraits to do so. "I'm fine with fetching them myself. I'm sure that James is in Divination about now and Albus is in History of Magic, I believe."

"If you say so, Mister Potter," McGonagall replied as she sunk back down into her seat, an impressed expression on her face. "They are in the same classrooms to which you are accustomed."

He nodded and smiled at her perhaps a moment more than necessary before leaving the office. He was soon in the hallway before the statue of the gargoyle once more. He hesitated only for a moment, deciding Professor Binns' classroom was closer than the Divination forest on the first floor where the centaur taught the children.

He raced down a staircase just before it moved and sent him in the wrong direction and panted as he slowly made his way to his son's class. Thirty-six was not a good age to be running on stairs, whether it be up them or down them. An odd cackling sounded above the repetitious huffs of his breath and he hurried around a corner to witness some poor child – seemingly on her way to deliver something to another class – being attacked by the school poltergeist, Peeves. The wild creature spun around her snatching at the pile of papers she dropped in surprise and was desperately trying to recover. Harry had only liked Peeves once and only when he destroyed school property in the name of humiliating Delores Umbridge. However, now Harry was not as impressed by the display of mindless destruction and whipped out his wand. "_Ectomum_!"

A substance the looked akin to grape jelly blasted from the tip of Harry's wand and flung itself down the hall, effectively catching the poltergeist in the air and stopping Peeves mid-cackle. As the little girl spun around in surprise, the auror lifted his wand hand higher and the jellied little man slammed up into the ceiling. Peeves fidgeted horribly to try and escape, but could do no such thing. "How –"

"I've caught and destroyed bigger and badder poltergeists than you, Peeves," Harry chuckled, sending all eyes towards him, including the grateful brown gaze of the girl he had saved. Peeves glared down at him from the high ceiling with something less – and more venomous – then gratefulness, however.

"Well if it isn't Daddy Potty! Haven't seen you around for a while, just your little Potty spawn!" the creature hissed, still trying to squirm from his jiggling prison. "How have you been, Big Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee – "

Another shout of "_Ectomum_!" and Peeves' mouth was silenced by more jelly.

"The Bloody Baron should be able to free you," Harry told the now silent and fuming monster, causing the poltergeist's eyes to widen in fear. "Bye." He turned his gaze to the girl still gaping at him, a flush on her delicate cheeks as she did so. He gulped nervously at his new fan and waved his wand so that the pile of papers on the ground flew into his waiting hands, straight and tidy as they had been before. He handed them to her, she blushed hotly, gushed out what he supposed were words of gratitude through her giggling mouth, and bolted down the hallway.

When he finally reached his son's classroom, he had fully recovered from his dash down the stairs and the encounter with Peeves and had decided to work out more. He rapt lightly on the wooden door and opened it. "Excuse me, Professor Binns?"

The specter of a teacher turned to the new voice. "Um, yes . . . Professor . . . Uh?"

"Oh no, actually I'm a parent. I'm here to get my son, Albus," Harry explained hastily, turning to scan the class for his son. The wild hair so like his own was easy to find amongst all the students staring at him and he almost smiled at the "Oh thank God!" expression on his son's bored face before said face went flat and emotionless once more.

"Ah, yes . . . Alex, of course," the professor droned in response, turning back to his class and continuing his lecture. Harry felt piercing eyes on him as Albus moved to the front of the class and turned to the source; a blond with familiar pale eyes. Harry smiled and waved, then left the classroom quickly, pulling his son along with him before he lit up like a bonfire.

"Hey, Al," he greeted with a smile. Albus merely nodded at him and looked at his feet. Harry's smile faded and he reached out to pat his child on the shoulder. "Come on, son."

He led his youngest son to the first floor classroom where his oldest was stargazing.

"Harry Potter," the palomino centaur in the middle of the room said flatly upon his entering. The students all facing away from the door turned their heads and craned their necks to see him.

"Firenze." Harry nodded to the impressive creature.

"Dad!" James shouted as he always did in greeting. He bolted up from his tree stump on the floor and was across the room and beside his father before anyone could react.

"Hey, son. Excuse me, Firenze, but may I steal my son away from your class?" Harry asked politely.

The centaur tilted his head as if to think before vaguely saying, "He is your son to steal."

"Right. Nice seeing you," Harry replied, following his son who had already left the classroom. He closed the door silently behind him and turned to face his sons; one grinning at him so widely it almost looked as if it hurt and the other gazing at his shoes as if he had never seen them before. "Hey boys, how about a trip to Hogsmeade?"

* * *

Albus was still riveted to the sight of his feet.

Where they were, where they were going as he took step after step.

The size of them. The color of his shoes. How shiny they were in contrast to the dirt path that led from Hogwarts to the village.

As his brother chattered away about being called the next Quidditch prodigy of the school, joining the Charm club, and informing their father on the potential love of Teddy and Victoire determined by the amount of mail she received from the boy every week, Albus stared at his feet, willing them to grow wings and carry him away to anywhere but here. His father tossed worried looks his way, despite the wary smile plastered on his face to appease James, but he kept his gaze to his feet and continued his wish to become Hermes. Perhaps a god would be able to withstand the storm raging within him.

"How has your first year been so far, Al?"

"Fine," he mumbled back, glaring at his feet. James had grown quiet and his father sighed. It was a familiar sigh, like that of his mother's when she had visited, but slightly different. Hers was sad. Sadder than his father's, but her sigh was also less pained. How was that possible?

As Albus mulled the question in his mind, James had also grown aware of his brother's feet. He had never seen his brother so clumsy and unaware of himself. Albus was hunched over, slouching horribly, not looking ahead to where he was going, and frowning – scowling heavily in a way James had never seen before. He looked to his father's face as they walked and saw through the smile, just as he had seen through his mother's, and just how both his mother and father had seen through his. His dad was hurt, his mother was hurt, his brother was hurt and he . . . Well, James was the eldest. He had made it a point to owl Lily. Made it a point to keep the words between them private. He had told his little sister that everything would be alright. Remarkably, he had not found a way to tell Albus who seemed to need the reassurance the most. Lily had merely told him to "Help Daddy." He had no way to relay that message either.

Albus appeared to want to be hopeless. He wanted to fault himself and his mother and his father, but he felt guilt from his thoughts. And James saw all of this in his little brother. Because he was the eldest and the eldest was suppose to pay attention towards these things.

When they reached the village, it seemed as if their father had not thought ahead as to where they would go. Instead, they aimlessly wandered here and there, staring into shop windows and avoiding one another's direct gaze. Eventually, they ended up beside the fence and gate that separated the town from the Shrieking Shack. James tapped at the edge of the gate, watching the house and Albus watched his feet and Harry watched his boys.

"Do the students still think it's haunted?" he asked. James turned to him, looked at him as if just realizing he was there.

"Yeah," his eldest answered with a barking laugh that reminded him of Sirius. Not too humorous and not too serious, but oh so Sirius. "A lot claim to hear ghosts. They keep saying the ghosts are from the war . . . They don't know how long it's been called the Shrieking Shack and they don't know about Teddy's dad."

"What? You haven't taken you're knowledge of the place and lorded it over the others?" Harry chuckled, sinking to the ground a little ways away from the fence. Jams walked over and sat beside him. Albus watched his feet.

"No," James said, looking back to the little house. "I just kept thinking about . . . that story you told me about Severus Snape . . . Makes talking about the place less fun and more disrespectful."

Harry smiled at his son and clapped him on the shoulder. "Good boy." He looked to his other son and was almost surprised to see him with his head lifted and turned to the ominous building. "Albus. Come over here. Sit with us."

His youngest son did as he was told and sat beside his father with his legs folded beneath him and he stared at his hands. Harry could feel James' eyes on him just as he knew Albus could feel _his_ eyes, but neither he, nor Albus, looked to the one wanting attention. Harry sighed.

"I need to talk to you boys," he said unnecessarily. "I don't know how much your mother has told you about what's happening between the two of us and I don't want to make it seem as if what's happened is anyone's fault. I don't want to make you two take sides and I don't want to separate this into her side of the story and my side of the story."

"But I want to know your side of the story," Albus said softly, plucking at the blades of grass beside his feet. "I want to know."

"Me too," James said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. Harry sighed. He looked to James who stared right back at him with Ginny's eyes and he sighed again.

"Alright," he finally said. "Your mother and I have not been communicating very well in the last few months."

"She said that you're with Malfoy's dad," Albus snapped suddenly.

"I am, but that has only been recent."

"How recent?"

"As of two weeks ago when your mother moved out of the house," Harry replied.

"She said she had to move out of the house," Albus sobbed out, fisting the strong grass in his hand and gripping it so that it strained from its link to the ground. "She said you ignored her! She said she had to leave because you don't love her! She said . . . She said she couldn't make it work anymore!"

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, staring at the grass Albus had yet to tear from the earth. Staring at the grass that held the beads of salty tears like morning dew.

"I'm glad you're not together anymore," James said quietly.

Albus lifted his head and glared at his brother through his tears. "You take that back."

"They suck together, Alby! You can't pretend you didn't notice," James growled back, sitting up a bit straighter. "We had all summer to notice!"

"Stop fighting," Harry said sharply and the pair's egos deflated, turning them back into the little boys they had been before the few seconds of argument. "I know I've hurt your mother and I am sorry that you both had to witness it."

"She's hurting you, too," James said.

Harry neither denied it nor encouraged the comment. He just stared at his son and sighed. "We hardly talked or spent time with one another. I neglected her by spending too much time at work and she left me."

"What's going on between her and the Herbology teacher?" James suddenly asked, snapping out the words as if he were speaking of a complete stranger other than one of their family's closest friends.

"I don't know," Harry said honestly.

"What about you and Malfoy's dad?" Albus shot out.

"I . . ." His voice trailed off and he bit his lip. "Your mother and I are not getting back together. She knows this and I know this."

"So you're already moving on?!" his youngest son shouted at him. "You guys were married last month and now you're just shacking up with some bloke?!"

"We were not happy together!" Harry told the boy sternly. Albus gulped down his next words and his tears and looked away. "We are not in love anymore. It's the sad truth, but it's the truth. I promised myself that you deserved to know the truth now instead of when you're older. I know what it feels like and it feels like shit, so I didn't want you going through the same thing. Now, you're going to listen to this truth and you won't like it, but you'll very damn well understand. You hear me?" James murmured his affirmation, but Albus said nothing. "You hear me?"

"Yes."

"Good. I don't want you to think that I hate your mother because I don't. I don't want you to think I ignored her on purpose. I didn't. We did not cheat on one another," Harry said, scratching at his arms. "We did not fight. We just fell out of love. I ignored your mother and she left me. It hurts when a bond like marriage is torn apart, but you must know that you're mother and I never meant to hurt any of you."

"I know, Dad," James whispered, staring at his own blades of grass now.

"I know," Albus whispered, too.

"I want to be honest with you, that's why I came here. That's why I'm telling you right now, just in case . . . I couldn't tell you in the future."

"You think she's going to keep us from you?" James asked.

"Don't worry about that," Harry told him. James frowned and looked away. "Just . . . Just . . . Know that I love you guys, okay . . . Okay?"

"Okay," they both replied weakly.

"Know that, alright," Harry said again, biting his lip a bit harshly to keep back his tears. His two boys sniffled on either side of him and he whispered his love for them again. Albus finally placed his head in his hands and sobbed. "Come here." The boy climbed into his arms with no objection and Harry found his other son pressing his face into his other shoulder. The three of them sat, shaking in one another's arms for a long time, but the more they cried, the more they held on. "Hey . . . You guys never . . . never felt like . . . Like I ignored you? You never felt like I ignored you, did you?"

Two sets of eyes, reddened with tears, one set deep brown and the other vivid green, looked up at him and both boys shook their heads.

"Alright," Harry said with a weak smile as he kissed each forehead. "I just needed to know."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I like this chapter the most. This is what the whole story is about to me. It only took me forever to get here! I accidentally made the chapter too long with my need to glue Peeves to a ceiling with Jell-O and just could not find the strength within myself to write the beginning of the hearing like I planned, so the entire thing is going down next chapter. Thanks to Rae, who is really freakin' awesome and told me court stuff that she doesn't think it helpful, but make me think she's a goddess because I'm totally oblivious to all that kind of stuff. You helped so much, sweets! I really wanna write a story for you, so you better tell me what you want to read! Anywho, thanks for reading the chap and please tell me if any other saps besides myself and WiseDraco (I know you're crying!) burst into tears as well! _**-DMH**_


	9. Geezers & Crones

"I haven't been this nervous since James was born."

"You said that about talking _to_ James," Draco informed him flatly, his mercury eyes following his pacing lover back and forth across the hall.

"Shut up. I know that. I was there," Harry snarled in respond and the blond just smiled at him.

"Sit down. You'll make me nervous, too, and then what will we be?"

"Worry-warts?" Harry suggested, plopping onto the bench next to the other.

"No, we'll be Hermione," Draco chuckled, pointing his finger towards the other end of the hall to guide Harry's gaze to his fretting friend. She was trying to push down the back of Hugo's stubborn hair, scolding Lily for spinning around in circles and bumping into Ministry officials, scolding Ron for doing the same thing, and struggling to keep her cool – as cool as Hermione could get – under the unnecessary pressure. "Poor 'Mione. She won't be satisfied until her hair's almost as silver as mine."

Harry laughed and allowed his head to fall on Draco's shoulder. He closed his eyes and felt a hand on his leg. He let himself fall into a state of calm; allowed himself to merely focus on the sensation of another's warmth connecting with his instead of the hearing that was scheduled to begin in less than ten minutes or the Ministry hallway they waited in or the sounds surrounding them or even the feel of the wooden bench beneath him. Just the warmth.

"I love you," was whispered in his ear along with a gentle kiss and he smiled.

"Thank you," he told his lover. "Thank you for everything."

"Don't," Draco ordered sharply. "I'm selfish and I did it all for me."

"Well, thank you for your Malfoy obnoxiousness."

"No problem," the blond chuckled, pulling away and folding his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the wall. He tapped his toes on the black marble floor and gazed around the hall. "Where's your wife?"

"Dunno. She's supposed to bring the boys from school about five minutes before all of this starts so that I can talk to them," Harry sighed, opening his eyes and allowing the world to come back.

"Do you think they told her about you seeing them a week ago?"

"Dunno," he replied again.

"Well, the hearing starts in two minutes according to all these clocks in here. You think she's just being a bitch?"

"Draco," Harry said in a chiding tone.

"What? It's just a logical theory," the ex-Slytherin hissed with a smile. Harry punched him lightly on the arm, kissed him, and shook his head at him. "What?"

"Do you think I'm in love with you right now?" he asked, a small part of himself finding satisfaction in the expression of surprise on the other's face towards the unexpected question.

"I can hope that, but sometimes . . . I doubt that's going to happen," he admitted, closing his silver eyes – and his emotions – from Harry's gaze.

"Why?"

"Why do I doubt? Isn't it obvious?"

"No, I mean why do you love me?" Harry asked, leaning closer to the other just as Ginny and his other children appeared in the hall. "And don't give me that bull about obsessing over me since you were a child."

"I thought you believed that 'bull'," Draco sighed, staring nervously at the clocks. "Don't you have a custody battle you should be worried about?"

"I want an answer afterwards, Draco," Harry told him as he stood and began to walk away. He stopped about a yard away Ginny and his children before he turned back to Draco. "I'll tell you why I love you when you tell me the same."

* * *

Harry had only been able to hold them for what felt like less than a minute before Ron tapped him on the shoulder and told him the hearing was to begin. He closed his eyes for a moment and gritted his teeth before kissing each child on the forehead; nuzzling soft, red hair, ruffling an unruly dark crown, looking into bottomless emerald pools . . . He gave Albus his final kiss and held him close before finally allowing Draco to pull the children away from him. Both parties had already agreed that the children had no business being in the room during the hearing, forced to hear all the sordid little details of their parents' squabbles. It was also agreed that neither Draco nor Neville were to be allowed into the courtroom; only the immediate family was admitted which included not only Ron and Hermione, but Molly and Arthur Weasley as well. Neither grandparent voiced any opinion towards either side.

Draco kissed his ear – a spot that Harry recently noticed the blond tended to frequent with kisses – and gave him a loose hug before turning to the children and promising multi-flavored ice cream cones. Harry smiled at the sight of Neville actually attempting to catch up with the blond's long strides and even the trotting of the kids, but the smile soon faded when Ron's hand was once again on his shoulder.

When he walked into the large, atrium-like room half-expecting to face that lone wooden throne, adorned generously with chains and buckles, but – instead – was greeted with a large expanse of purple carpeting, two wooden tables that had one chair each, a circle of comfortable looking recliners, and a raised platform housing a table and five rather regal looking chairs. A Ministry official Harry did not recognized pointed the family members to the surrounding chairs and Harry and Ginny towards their own individual tables. Harry laced his fingers together and set his folded hands on top of the table and Ginny did the same ten feet away from him.

"Excuse me, Auror Potter?" Harry looked up at the source of the voice and the Ministry official smiled crookedly at him. "Uh, hi. I was just wondering; would you be comfortable with allowing a few reporters from the prophet into the hearing? There's a crowd of them outside in the hall."

"No!" Harry barked, causing the other man to jump back in fright. The official quickly scurried away and left Harry to glare angrily at his fingernails for the next ten minutes.

"All rise for the entrance of the Honorable Deciders," an androgynous voice from nowhere boomed into the room. Harry stood and took a deep breath . . . and then another . . . and then another until he felt dizzy. Several old wizards and witches paraded into the room, their robes such a violent orange one would assume the Chudley Cannons had vomited them up, and Harry was suddenly very angry that they had the nerve to be so tacky on such a serious day. They stepped onto the platform, stood behind their seats, and continued to stand even as the voice ordered, "You may be seated."

Harry sat and jumped up again immediately afterward when Percy Weasley Apparated beside his table with a loud, echoing crack.

"Sorry about that," the redhead murmured to him as he conjured a chair and pulled a roll of parchment and a quill from his robes. He nodded to the Deciders and they nodded back respectfully.

The orange-clad witch that stood in the middle of the line turned her attention back to the broken couple and she smiled. "I would like to explain the basics of this hearing. Seeing as there are such few wizarding custody battles – as traditional wizarding families tend to fight it out amongst themselves – it is rare for the five of us to get together . . . How long has it been, Rododgeus?"

"Fifty-two years, Ursula," the stoic man at the end of the line of Deciders replied.

"Ah yes, it has been a long time. I was actually happy to hear that someone had finally decided to deal within logical means instead of tossing hexes and curses every which way to see who gets a child for some random holiday. I commend the two of you," the old witch said, her smile wide and wispy as if speaking at a wedding instead of at the evidence of a divorce. "Anywho! Let's move onto business! Mortimer, refresh our memories of this case."

The Deciders took this time to take their seats, all except the one that stood to the right of Ursula. Mortimer cleared his throat and grumbled out, "We are gathered here today to witness the union –"

"Mortimer! What in bloody batwings are you saying?!" Ursula cried out, tugging Mortimer's tangerine sleeve. "This is a custody battle not a Muggle wedding service!"

"What?" the old man bellowed, squinting down at the frantic woman. Harry gaped at them and pinched the crown of his nose in frustration. How he utterly hated the quirkiness of the Wizarding world in that moment and, had he not been so disgusted, he would have sympathized with Percy who was forced to keep a written record of this conversation. Harry could barely turn his head to the sound of the rushed scribbling of a quill across parchment.

It was decided amongst the Deciders that Mortimer was to sit and allow a witch with a squeaky voice to state the case instead.

"We are gathered, not for a union, but for the disbandment of a marriage and the arrangements to which children and properties are distributed –"

"What properties?" Harry asked. The squeaky witch squeaked at the interruption and stared down at him as if she could not believe her eyes.

"Why the money and land Mrs. Potter proposes under the list of her demands," the Decider squeaked.

"What land? My parents home?!" He swung his gaze in Ginny's direction, but she continued to stare at the Deciders with a stony expression. "No way in hell. When was this proposed?"

"Well, um . . . Since five o'clock this morning," the Decider squeaked cautiously. "We cannot take the proposition back, Auror Potter, and it must be Decided upon."

Harry could hear the whispering of his two best friends behind him and calmed himself with a few more deep breaths. "Fine."

"Good. Now then, the party of Ginevra Weasley-Potter requests full custody of the children she now shares with the party of Harry James Potter along with a payment of alimony and the land in the village of Godric's Hollow which we assume a house resides on," she squeaked as Harry attempted to channel Scorpius' Lampedes abilities towards Ginny's hair. "And the party of Harry James Potter requests shared custody of the children he shares with the party of Ginevra Weasley-Potter. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Harry and Ginny said together. The squeaky witch sat down as the witch in the center, Ursula, smiled like a giddy school girl.

"Well now," Ursula began. "We will begin with the questioning of each parent, then we will give them each a chance to plead their case, and finally, after a brief recess or a long one depending on what we get for lunch, we will _Decide_. We will question Mrs. Potter first. Morty, do you think you're up to it?"

Mortimer stood once more and cleared his throat. "Ashes to ashes. Dusk to dusk –"

Ursula yanked him back down and the stoic one known as Rododgeus spoke up. "How long have you and Auror Potter been married?"

"Thirteen years," the redhead replied in a voice just barely loud enough to be heard by the entire room.

"How would you describe your marriage to Auror Potter?"

Ginny bit her lip in hesitation before answering while staring down at her folded hands. "As deteriorating."

"Elaborate."

"When we began, we were madly in love with one another and now . . . that's not how it is."

"Who fell out of love first?"

Ginny's stony face fell and Harry attempted to swallow the uncomfortable lump in his throat. "Harry did. I still love him, but he doesn't feel the same for me."

"When did you first notice his lack of love for you?"

Harry found himself wanting to defend Ginny from the cold Decider's even colder words as tears began to slide down her freckled cheeks. "Um, maybe . . . three years ago." Harry's eyes widened; had he really been so oblivious for three years? "When he became the Head of the Auror department . . . I can't fault him for working hard, but he began to ignore me."

"Ignore you? I see you have an accusation of negligence here," the Decider said, shuffling through the papers before him.

"Yes. Um, he would take long assignments – longer ones than he had had even before he became Head Auror and . . . when he came home, I would feel hungry for his attention or acknowledgement. I felt a lack of love," Ginny finished, pulling her hands from the table and wrapping herself in her arms.

"Do you feel he has committed the act of negligence for which you accuse him of towards the children?"

Ginny bit her lip again. "He was away for months at a time. Once he was even gone for half a year. They were without him for a long time and work kept him very busy," Ginny said and Harry wiped a hand down his face. "He was always too busy for me and, I think, too busy for the children."

The Decider, Rododgeus nodded towards her and asked no further questions. Instead, he leaned over to whisper in Mortimer's ear who whispered into Ursula's who whispered into the squeaky voiced witch's ear who whispered into the ear of the last and the least spoken of the Deciders. He was the only Decider that had dark hair and not merely locks of translucent white and he seemed to be the only Decider as serious as Rododgeus. He nodded at whatever the squeaky voiced Decider said and cast a gaze towards Harry.

"Auror Potter," he began in a low, raspy voice. "What is your relationship with the Death Eater Draco Malfoy?"

Harry continued to stare at the man as if he had yet to ask a question. After an awkward moment of silence and the slow processing of the question in Harry's mind, he replied, "What?"

"What is your relationship with the Death Eater Draco Malfoy?" the raspy voiced Decider asked again.

"What?" Harry snapped suddenly after recovering from shock. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The Deciders do not have to explain themselves," Ursula said, smiling in a girlish way that reminded him of a certain toad woman. "Just answer the question. What is your relationship with the Death Eater Draco Malfoy?"

"Don't call him a Death Eater," Harry ordered sharply, causing the panel of wizards and witches before him to bristle.

The Decider with the raspy voice leaned forward to enhance the glare he sent Harry's way. "Seeing as he was a Death Eater at the time of the Dark Lord's demise and has done nothing to atone for his behavior but toss out a few names and aptly manage the funds of the Ministry –"

"'Aptly manage'?! He's the one that signs your fucking paychecks!"

"Auror Potter!" the Decider known as Ursula belted out as she shot out of her chair and onto her feet. "We will not tolerate this type of insolence! I suggest you reign in your temper and answer the question before we rule to _Decide _without your testimony."

The whispers behind Harry increased as he breathed harshly through his nose and glared at the five before him. Finally, he forced his shoulders to drop and leaned back in his chair. "Draco Malfoy is my . . . boyfriend."

The two witches shared a meaningful look before Ursula smiled at him with acidic glee. "Tell us, Auror Potter, how long have you and Draco Malfoy been in a relationship; sexual or otherwise?"

"Since the night when Ginny left me . . . About four weeks ago," Harry gritted out through his tightly clenched jaw.

"No extramarital affairs, Auror Potter?"

"Never a one, Honorable Decider," he replied. "But I was led to believe my wife was having one with a close family friend."

"Are you saying this is what turned you to _that man_?" the squeaky Decider squeaked.

"No. Alcohol turned me to _that man_ that night."

"Tell us of your relationship with the Malfoy," the raspy Decider demanded, causing Harry's eyes to flash.

"In what aspect?" he bit out.

"How committed are you to this man? How much does he influence your everyday life? Are you in love with him?"

Harry stared at the other man in shock and rage. "How dare you ask such things? You speak as if he's the next Dark Lord! Draco does not control me and this has nothing to do with a custody hearing!"

"It has everything to do with this hearing, Auror Potter," Ursula informed him, her smile widening more and more like the frog's with each passing minute. "You are currently . . . what is the term for it, Rododgeus? The one the young kids use?"

"Shacking up?" the stoic man provided.

"Yes!" she giggled in triumph. "You, Auror Potter, are currently shacking up with a dangerous man and yet, you expect to raise your children around him."

Harry's hands curled into tight fists and only his strict training in discipline prevented him from pulling out his wand. "Draco is not dangerous."

"He comes from an old and powerfully dangerous wizarding family."

"You cannot condemn him for the sins of his father!"

"Sins he, himself, committed when giving his services to the Dark Lord."

"He was barely seventeen when all that happened! He had no control of his life!"

"And you were barely seventeen when you defeated the Dark Lord and you managed to control your life _and your decisions_ very well."

"How can you people sit here and condemn him at a custody battle for _my_ children?" Harry snarled. "How can you five dare to judge him when the entire assembly of the Wizengomat – and not just a group of out of work, senile geezers and crones, but _real_ judges gave him complete amnesty?"

"Regardless of what the Wizengomat has ruled," the cold Decider, Rododgeus, droned on, "it matters not that he has been forgiven in those judges' eyes. He still has the potential and the knowledge for great harm and it is impertinent towards your children to not assume the worse of him."

Before Harry could respond, the Decider known as Ursula stood once more and announced, "It has been decided that there will be no individual testimonies or case pleadings, but only a brief recess where there will hopefully be tea, and then we will return to inform you two what we have Decided."

Once again, Harry's indignation was interrupted by the out of nowhere voice. "All rise for the exit of the Honorable Deciders."

Harry remained seated as the five stood and paraded out of the room, their swishing robes of orange seemingly less comical and more like the flames of hell. He jerked when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Hermione's worried face. Tears were in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around him and they rocked back and forth slowly for the next few minutes until he finally pulled away. He stood and looked away from the other people in the room, especially Ginny. He did not think he would be able to face her _and_ control his magic. He could barely control it now as it was.

He heard Ron's angry tones towards his sister, but could not register the words in his mind.

When he took his seat once more, he gained an empathetic glance from Percy, but looked away from the redhead to his hands. They were shaking and he could not make them stop.

* * *

"All rise for the entrance of the Honorable Deciders."

Once everyone was successfully settled in their seats, the Decider known as Ursula stood from her center stage chair and smiled at both Ginny and Harry. "We have _Decided_ and we grant legal custody of the children, James, Albus, and Lily, to the party of Ginevra Weasley-Potter, but we grant the party of Harry James Potter visitation at least every other weekend unless otherwise authorized by Mrs. Potter. Concerning the other propositions given to us, we have Decided to grant the party of Ginevra Weasley-Potter an alimony of five hundred Galleons to be paid by Auror Potter every month as well as the property residing in Godric's Hollow. You all are dismissed. Please have a nice day."

"What a lovely wedding," the Decider, Mortimer, sighed.

* * *

**Author's Note:** That was so hard to write 'cuz I didn't want to do it, but I had to. I'm sorry! _**-DMH**_


	10. True Malfoy Form

**Author's Note:** So, there was a rather angry AN written in response to a few reviews last chapter. I guess I was hormonal and touchy that day, but I really, really got upset. I hope that does not happen again, but – alas – it might, so I'm over it. However, I've kept the AN – even though you all will not see it – because it is freaking hilarious to me and maybe not to all of you. So I will not post it so not to lose anyone who appreciates my writing with my own bitchiness.

Also, I would like to discuss a rising epidemic: spork violence. It is wrong to use the efficient and hilariously named utensils in a manner that can hurt people, even if they are greedy redhead heifers that take everything away from a man just because he can't love that greedy redhead heifer's ass. Spork violence is bad, m'kay? **_-DMH_**

* * *

Harry could not tell if his hands had finally stopped shaking or if he was just shaking all over.

Time seemed to slow as the panel of Deciders paraded from the room, nothing more than a blur of tangerine in his peripheral vision. He heard the voices around him, but could not truly understand them. He felt hands on his back, on top of his hair, he felt bushy curls brush against his cheek, but he was practically numb. It was not until Ron smacked him across the face that he snapped out of it.

"What the fuck, Ron?" he bellowed, his outrage echoing throughout the domed room.

"Well, I couldn't very well have you sitting there, zoning out like a bloody vegetable. Get up, we have to go," Ron ordered coldly, earning a rather hard slap on the arm from his wife.

"Ron, stop being an ass," Hermione growled as Harry forced himself out of the chair. She turned to him with sad eyes and held out one of her hands. "Come, Harry. We have much to talk about and the Minister to see."

"The Minister?" Harry asked, placing his hand in hers and allowing his two best friends to hurriedly steer him pass the woman who singlehandedly ruined his life.

"Well, how else do you think we'll be able to appeal this Decision?" she asked, a hopeful smile on her lips. He smiled back weakly just as they walked through the doors and out into the hallway. The sight he then saw was unlike any he had ever seen before. Draco Malfoy was blowing bubbles with his children.

The blond pressed his lips to the tip of his wand, formed his lips as if whistling, and released dozens of crystal orbs, varying in size and color. Harry watched his children dance around the man, catching the bubbles and delighting in the fact that with each popped sphere, dozens of more tiny bubbles flew out in every direction. Draco had even enchanted them so that with each bubble Lily caught, they glowed a sweet bubblegum pink that had her keening with laughter.

Finally, the tall blond noticed the trio standing frozen in the doorway and turned to them with a dazzling smile. "How'd it go?"

"I . . . I lost," Harry replied, and the hundreds of bubbles burst.

"God, Harry," Draco gasped, hastily making his way to the other man despite the protests of the children. He pulled Harry into his arms and rocked him back and forth slowly. "You have to tell me what happened. Tell me how to fix this."

"You can't," Harry said softly, pulling away and moving to his children. "What happened to all the reporters? I was told there were a group of them here."

"I sent them away," Draco said. "Actually, Neville sent them away with a funny anecdote about you. It was not funny."

"Hn," Harry said softly in response, bending down so that Lily could fly into his arms. He lifted her up into the air and smiled and held her tight and smiled. "Your hair smells like bubblegum, my love."

"Yeah," she whispered softly, wrapping her small frame as tight as she could around his body. "Don't be sad, Daddy."

"I won't be," he promised her, kissing her soft, freckled cheek. Only the sound of Ron growling like an attack dog gained his attention away from his daughter and he grimaced as his former wife walked from the room. He pried himself away from Lily's protesting frame and set her on the ground, only whispering a soft, "I need to speak to your mother for a moment, darling," in order to placate her.

No one tried to stop him. No one attempted to pull Ginny away. Everyone just watched, her parents included, as Harry walked up to her with the fiercest expression they had ever witnessed and the saddest eyes they had ever needed to see.

Half of her expected him to brandish his wand and hex her. The other half expected him to forget about the wand and just slap her across the mouth. She suddenly began to yearn for one of the two when he just stared at her with anguished, accusing eyes. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? How can you let that word even roll off your lying tongue?" he hissed back, low so that the children watching them with rapt attention would not hear. "How could you?"

"I had to do it, Harry. I didn't want to, but it's the only place they know as their home and I need a place where all of us can –"

"I don't care about the house!" he snarled in interruption, forcefully fisting his hands at his sides so not to fist them around her neck. "I don't care about the money. Why did you have to take my family away? Why?"

"I had to do it!" she sobbed. "You don't understand the heartbreak I went through!"

"I think I do now!" he barked back at her, disregarding all control over the volume of his voice. "What else has to happen between us for you to stop trying to hurt me, Ginny, huh?" He lifted an arm, pulled back his sleeve and presented it to her. "Do you want me to open a vein so you can bleed me dry? Huh? Must you take everything from me?!"

"I'm sorry!" she screamed, shaking her head back and forth, her wild red locks springing free of the tight ponytail she had been sporting all day. "I can say nothing else to you! I'm sorry it had to be like this!" She looked away from his eyes, then, and over his shoulder. Her brown eyes widened for a moment and she cleared her throat and took a few breaths; pulling on an air of calmness. "You can see them next weekend."

She walked around him carefully and sighed – almost inaudibly – in relief when he let her pass. Just as she reached the children, Lily bolted past her and into her father's arms.

"Daddy, I don't want to leave! I don't want to leave!"

"It's alright, my love," he cooed to her, brushing his fingers through hair so identical to the strands he had only just seconds ago longed to rip out. "You won't be leaving. I have to go, but I'll come visit you as often as I can. I promise."

"Promise again," the nine year old cried, her face scrunched up and red.

"I promise again," he said, kissing her red forehead. She was wiping her wet cheeks on his collar when the boys approached them, leaving their mother alone at the end of the hall. He crouched down carefully, so not to jostle Lily, and opened his free arm. The woeful pair collapsed onto him and he relished in the weight of them, the feel of them in his arms. "I promise, boys."

* * *

"Will someone tell me what the hell happened? I have to sit out in the waiting room for the damn hearing for an hour, then another waiting room for some meeting with the Minister of Magic for another two hours and, yet, I still know nothing other than the Ministry needs new interior decorators!" Draco retorted, hours later as they sat amongst the boxes of Harry's things in the middle of Ron and Hermione's living room. Harry was silent – curled up at the opposite end of the couch from him and staring at his own feet with avid interest.

"I'll tell you," Ron said from the other end of the morose room, but Hermione tapped him on the arm and shook her head.

"Harry may not want to hear it anymore."

"It's alright," the brunet said, finally lifting his head. "Draco should know."

"Well, you heard the man, get on with it," Draco urged, his back going ramrod straight. "Out with it!"

"First off, the whole thing was complete bullshit," Ron began as if retelling a Chudley Cannons loss. "You could tell the entire time that the bloody Deciders favored the woman over the man right from the beginning. Then they ask Ginny all these questions about how bad she had it and all this other codswallop about how horrible were the last thirteen years she spent living off the Harry Potter name and then, when it comes Harry's turn for questioning . . . God, I can't even say it! Finish for me, 'Mione."

She sighed deeply in irritation and crossed her legs as she turned her attention towards the blond. "When the Deciders began to question Harry, the entire focus of the entire hearing veered off course. They asked about you."

"Me?" Draco repeated, aghast. Hermione nodded and bit her lip. "Why?"

"Apparently, you're a potential danger to the children," Harry bit out bitterly.

Draco's eyes narrowed and he began to unconsciously rub his arm. "What else?"

"They asked me how much influence you had over me and they told me it was disrespectful to the safety of my children to have a Death Eater around them," Harry told him, abruptly standing and continuing the pacing he had abandoned just that morning. "They even asked me if I loved you."

"What else did they ask besides the things about me?" Draco asked cautiously.

"Nothing else," Harry snapped. "Just you."

"Oh," the blond replied softly. "I'm sorry."

Harry groaned low in his throat and turned to his lover with teary eyes. "It's not you, Draco. It was me! I was so fucking stupid."

"Don't say that, Harry," Hermione said, but he shook his head.

"You both saw me out there," he said to the couple. "You saw me. I couldn't control my fucking temper. I couldn't just suck it up for one moment and give them respect, not even for my kids."

"Bloke, you and I both know they _Decided_ that ruling even before anyone sat foot into that room," Ron said. "Don't blame yourself for not anticipating it. You're no more psychic than the rest of us."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a sob. He growled at himself, fisted his hands in his hair, and began to pace again. When he turned his gaze to Draco, the man opened his arms, and he found himself running gratefully into them. "Fuck, Draco," he sobbed into the man's neck. "She took my family."

"Hush, Harry," Draco whispered into inky black locks. "I told you that all you needed to do was tell me and, now, I'll fix it."

* * *

Draco sauntered into Gringotts just as he did every second Tuesday of the month. He nodded to the goblins at the counters, smiled his way out of a conversation with several wizards and witches looking for favors, and finally continued to saunter to the office he intended to visit.

"Pardon me, Madame Grime, but may I have an audience with you?" he asked upon entering the room. Madame Grime, a goblin just as most of the rest that ran the wizarding bank, was unlike any creature that Draco had ever encountered. Her Russian-Goblin blood prevented her from being beautiful in human eyes, but what she lacked in looks, she made up for in sheer force. She forced men's attention – goblin or not – and used skills of seduction with surprising effectiveness. Grime was fully aware of her compact body at all times, using it in any way necessary to get what she wanted. Her skin shone a shimmering yellow gold, like fresh parchment, but unlike the layers of skin and wrinkles most goblins had, her skin was smooth and tight, making her look years younger. Her hair was long and golden to the point that it shone like the spun strands created by Rumpelstiltskin, a relative of hers that she held dear. Her small, black eyes – abysmally bottomless and yet so full of life – looked up from the papers she had been reading prior to his arrival and her wide, red lips stretched into a smile.

"Drrrrrraco," she greeted in a purr, her voice low and heavily accented, it wafted to him like a perfume and he blushed at the undertones it held. "Come in, child. I alvays have time for you." She held out both of her hands to him and he stepped further into the room to accept them. Her hands were larger than his own, her fingers almost twice as long yet half as thick, but he lavished them with kisses all the same and coaxed a chuckle from her throat. "Vat do you vish of me now, child? Ministry business?"

"In a sense," he replied, stroking the delicate skin of her hands with his thumbs absently. "I need to ask a favor of you, Madame Grime."

"A favor involving gold?" she asked, pulling her hands away. "Or Harry Potter?"

"Both," Draco laughed, his smile dazzling. He took a seat across from hers and leaned over her desk to kiss the tip of her long nose. "Let's negotiate."

* * *

Draco was pleased to find the Potter home that resided in Godric's Hollow empty. Apparently, Ginevra had yet to move in and – with a flick of his wand – he knew she never would.

* * *

"You want a what?" the Minister of Magic asked for the third time as he ran a large hand over the smooth skin of his shiny bald head. He stared at the young man that sat across from him and worked very hard to swallow the anxious lump that had somehow found a home in his throat. "What?"

"Minister," Draco began for the fourth time, his voice just as smooth as if it were the first. "I have merely asked for a brief meeting with the panel of Deciders. I believe that they are all still alive?"

"Yes, very much alive," Kingsley Shacklebolt confirmed, arching a dark brow as one of his fingers slipped into the loop of his gold earring and tugged gently – a habit of his he detested. "However, I do not believe that a meeting with them at _such a time_ would be the grandest of ideas. Besides, I doubt they would want a conference with Harry Potter's boyfriend."

Draco smiled and held back the smirk that would have overwhelmed his face when Kingsley recoiled. "Minister, this has nothing to do with Harry, please believe me. It is a matter of fiscal . . . upsets that the Deciders may be inclined to hear my advice on."

"Nothing to do with Harry?" the Minister asked just to be assured once again.

"Nothing at all," Draco replied.

And this time, he did smirk.

* * *

Theodore Nott was a con artist, a swindler, a thief, a debaucher of maidens, a connoisseur of sin, a mercenary, an apt harp player, and one of Draco's closest friends. Hard to believe that they had not realized how well they got along until several years after Hogwarts, but Theo just insisted they both needed the time to grow . . . and the years he spent going insane in Azkaban did not do much to help either.

But for now, Theo sat across from what he considered his only and best friend in said friend's Ministry office, and eyed what appeared to be a solid gold set of scales. "So what do you need of me?"

Draco rolled his eyes as he reached across his desk and pulled the scales out of the range of sticky fingers. Theo pouted when he placed them in his desk drawer, but at least the fiend was paying attention now. "I need dirt."

The other's light brown eyebrows rose up in surprise. "Why Draco, I do believe your manor's closets have enough of that, right beside the skeletons, you know?"

"Don't bait me, Theodore, I have something you want."

Theo smiled and revealed a gold tooth that hung side by side with the fang of a baby dragon he prided himself on "finding". "And what do I want, Draco?"

"This," Draco said, pulling a large folder from his lap and setting it in the middle of the table. He tapped his fingers against the yellow folder idly as Theo looked on with confusion. "Theo, close your mouth, I'll tell you what this is, so don't even bother worrying those rusty little gears that barely and rarely turn in your mind." He smirked at his friend's glare and looked away to smile in satisfaction at the folder. "Do you know how easy it was to collect every speck of dirt in your record, Theo? The Ministry just seems to hand it away like coupons and your enemies . . . Well, let's just say your enemies are rather generous when they all want to see you rot in Azkaban for the rest of your life."

Theo frowned, but Draco saw the appreciative gleam in his eyes that showed he was impressed. "So this is . . ."

"Every crime you have ever committed up until you replied to my floo call just thirty minutes ago," Draco revealed in a delighted sigh. Theo smiled and leaned back in his chair.

"What will you do with it, Draco?"

"Oh, I can make it go away; every speck of dust, every smear to your name, every smudge that clouds that beautiful face of yours-" Theo preened, like any good Slytherin would. "-and even the lint that sticks to your coattails."

The other man smiled widely enough to reveal both the fang and his dimples. "Just tell me what you wish, all powerful Draco, and I'll do as you command. Who do you want dirt on?"

Draco chuckled. "Just a few old people . . . and just in case the sordid details are buried so far back into their long past, feel free to make something up."

"Are you looking to ruin someone, Draco?" Theo asked, his deep brown eyes twinkling with amusement and interest.

"I'm looking to decimate." He reached into a drawer and pulled another folder out only to be placed on the desk next to Theodore's. "Take this and be on your merry little way."

Theo smiled and stood. "Nice doing business with you."

Draco stood and shook hands with the man he considered one of his closest allies and walked him to the door. Theo was gone just about as quickly as he arrived. Draco smirked and sat back down behind his desk. For some strange reason, his mind was set on the drawer he had hid the scales within and he moved to open it and laughed out loud.

They were gone.

* * *

Draco snuggled into Harry's side and sighed. Who knew heaven would be lying beside him in the form of Harry Potter, smelling like wood smoke, and radiating with warmth? He snuggled closer and Harry groaned and wiggled away. He smiled and moved in close again. Harry sat up and stared at him groggily. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here," Draco replied.

"This is Ron's house."

"Well then, this must be a dream. Go back to sleep and let me hold you."

"Go away, Draco," the brunet ordered, plopping back down onto the pillows and turning away from the other once more.

"Why?"

"Because you don't live here," came the grunted answer and Draco nudged the backs of the other's knees with his own.

"A part of me likes to take shelter inside of you," Draco purred gently, his hands snaking around the other's quivering waist as Harry shook with laughter.

"Go away, Draco. Please," he urged, but his voice lacked the enthusiasm to back it up. "I just want to sleep."

"Come to my flat. Sleep there," Draco urged back, the soft presses of his lips against Harry's neck expressed much enthusiasm. The brunet arched back, his body sinking further into Draco's own as soft whimpers escaped from the back of his throat. "You don't even want to sleep right now, do you?"

"No," Harry whispered, turning his head to capture Draco's roving lips with his own. "But I feel uncomfortable doing this with you in my friends' home."

Draco smiled and slipped a hand into his lover's pajama pants. "I'm sure they've had no problem doing it in yours."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I know that chapter was just like: Whoa! What the hell?! But it will be all right, just calm down, all will be explained in the next chapter. Actually, it was supposed to be explained in this chapter, but I had writer's block for a long time and I was getting anxious, so I just had to post something. Anywho, the next chap will be part two of this chapter – since this one was so long I needed to split it up in order to satisfy my need to post. Tell me what you think and tell me if you want sex in the next chapter – I just realized I never really put the act of "explicit sex" in this story. Huh. _**-DMH**_


	11. Truer Malfoy Form

**Author's Note:** So I've been spelling my name wrong. How embarrassing is that?! I fixed it though . . . but I'm still embarrassed. LOL!! _-darkmo__**r**__smordreheart_

* * *

He did not normally appreciate being woken up from a deep slumber when it was still dark outside, but – when Harry Potter was purring on your lap – one had to make a few exceptions. Draco opened his eyes to the insistent nibbles and nips his lover lavished his chin and neck with. The brunet was breathing excitedly, audibly, and intensely in little pants that the darkness surrounding them so welcomed. When he lifted a hand to stroke soft, inky black hair, a whimper left his lover's throat and suddenly the blond was overwhelmed with the urge to nip and nibble back just to gain similar responses. Harry chuckled when sharp teeth caught the flesh that was both the beginning of his shoulder and the end of his neck and rolled his hips so that the pelvis he straddled – still wet from their earlier, midnight adventures – bucked up into his own. Draco hissed and arched, bringing his erection into the sexual tornado Harry was creating with the roll of his hips.

Their tongues met before their lips actually did, so both men sank into the kiss, further and further into the warm, wet cavern of Draco's mouth only to be coaxed to dance within Harry's. The blond pulled away first, but dived back in upon his lover's first whimper of lost. He ran the edges of his teeth against Harry's already reddened and swollen lips and, when the other eagerly moaned into his mouth, he bit down into the lip and pulled it into his mouth. While he sucked the delicate flesh, Harry halted all movement and only focused on that kiss, being kissed, and kissing back.

Draco continued to kiss him as he was pushed up into a seated position on the passionate blond's lap. Strong, pale arms wrapped around him and pull him close so that they were chest to chest.

"Love you, Harry," Draco whispered against his lips and he shuddered and pressed their lips harshly together as if to devour the words. He cupped Draco's face, entwined his fingers in the thick, moonlight locks, and kissed the beauty in his hands all over; the ridge of his nose, the unshaven chin, the sweat dampened brow, the cheeks, the eyelids, the lips, the temples, the jaw . . . And with each desperate landing of lips on pale flesh, Harry whispered, "Love you, love you, I love you Draco, love you, I love you . . ."

Draco melted and his face nuzzled its way into the crook of Harry's neck. The pair rocked back and forth for awhile before the brunet remembered to move his hips again.

"Touch me, Draco. Fuck me, Malfoy," he growled into Draco's smooth crown of hair. Strong hands settled on his waist, just above the sharp slant of his hipbones and he was lifted up until all his weight was supported in Draco's hands and on his own knees. He closed his eyes, poised for the welcomed intrusion, and groaned in pleasure as he was slowly lowered, slowly filled. It was a tighter fit than it had been a few hours before, but – in a way – it felt so much better, as if he was even closer to the other man.

"Okay?" Draco whispered against his neck and he moaned in reply. He gripped onto Draco's biceps over bruises he had created hours and days earlier and arched back, taking deeper pleasure as the blond moved deeper within him. He gasped as those strong hands lifted him and lowered him only to lift him up again. His eyes opened to take in his lover's already memorized expression. "You're so beautiful, Draco."

"I'm supposed to say that," the blond hissed out, still able to make his voice affronted despite the pleasurable heat pumping through him. "You are – ssssssssss – the girl in this relationship, after all."

"Right," Harry chuckled, leaning back and squeezing the man inside of him so that another sharp hiss sounded from the blond's clenched mouth. He leaned back further, taking in a particularly deep thrust from Draco and his little blond snake whimpered. "Yes, I'm the girl."

A blissful smile crossed his face when Draco's offended mercury eyes opened and he was flipped onto his back. "I'll make you make all those sweet little sounds, darling. I'll make you sing my name out. I'll make you beg for mercy. Cry for completion. Whimper for a touch of heaven. Die with each ounce of pleasure I pour into you."

"Mmm, how poetic of you," Harry replied, his chuckling turning into deep moans when the blond decided that the time to play was over. Draco pushed into him so quickly; he had not the ability to grip or even to understand the pleasure shooting through him before another jolt of ecstasy was introduced to his all so welcoming body. While one of his hands was fisting the bedsheets in an attempt to keep himself grounded, the other was gripping harshly enough to leave a bruise on the pale skin of Draco's neck. He used said hand to pull the blond down and take his lips as desperately as their bodies were joined. Soon, everything was hazy, but – even without his glasses – he could still distinguish Draco's hair from the rays of moonlight that splayed over them and he buried his fingers into the smoothly ruffled strands. He kissed the blond gently, or rather, was kissed by the blond gently, and promptly came, arching away from the bed until there was no space between his body and Draco's own. Strong arms wrapped around him and he was filled. Draco gasped into his ear, his breath hot and wet, and tears silently dripped onto his skin, but he did not know whether they were his own or his lover's.

* * *

"So how was your day today – er, yesterday?" Harry asked pleasantly as a breathless Draco rested against his chest. Silver eyes glanced up at him through the wet strands of silvery hair he stroked affectionately and Draco smiled.

"Oh, nothing," the blond whispered, his voice hoarse from screams he did not recall screaming. "You know, the usual. Went to the bank, went to work, had lunch with some old friends . . ."

"That sounds nice," Harry yawned, his smiling eyes drooping closed. "I'm sleepy. Weird, huh? I've been asleep all day."

"Well, all that energy you stored sleeping was just used for making love, wasn't it?" Draco replied, brushing his lips against the smooth golden skin above Harry's nipple. "Sleep, my love."

"Mmm, I meant to talk to you about that," Harry whispered, his fingers absently tracing the other's ear.

"About what?"

"Love."

Draco smiled. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Why?"

"You first," Harry insisted, his voice low and drowsy.

"I love you because . . . you're just about the only thing I believe in." Half closed emerald eyes widened and Draco nodded. "I spent . . . half of my life following my father's ideals and . . . You showed me that I should live the rest of my life with my own beliefs . . . And I just really love you for that."

Harry was quiet for a long moment. So quiet, that when he closed his eyes, Draco thought he had actually fallen asleep.

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have a spell on your arm? The one with the mark?"

Draco clutched his left arm to his chest. "Yes."

"Take it off."

The blond hesitated for a while before leaning across his lover to retrieve his wand.

"Before I couldn't really hide it," he hastily explained as he pressed his wand to his forearm under Harry's watchful eyes. "I couldn't even . . . um, cast a distraction spell over it, you know, so that people were forced to look away from it, but . . . when he died . . ." Draco seemed to lose his words as the mark slowly appeared on his skin and just feebly offered his arm to the other man.

Harry summoned his glasses silently and, when they were on, his eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the mark. Actually, it was more of a scar now and just examining it made one of his hands instinctually move to the scar on his forehead. The fingers of his free hand traced the scar. The skin of it was shiny and slightly darker than Draco's very pale skin and, in the moonlight, it stood out more prominently than Harry assumed it normally would. He lifted his gaze to Draco's face to see the blond staring at him with fear in his eyes, and then he leaned forward and kissed the skin directly above the faded scar that appeared to be a skull head.

"Harry, why do you love me?"

Harry's kiss moved, lower and lower down Draco's arm until he could kiss the head of the ghostly snake.

"Because."

* * *

Ginevra Weasley had finally had enough.

The angered redhead glared at the small, wrinkled goblin before her and she clutched her tight fists to her sides so not to punch the pointed ears from his head.

"What do you mean you can't get my gold?!"

"I mean exactly that, _Madam_," the creature replied in what was _supposed_ to be a polite tone. "The gold of the Potter vault is currently unavailable."

"What?!"

"Mummy, don't scream. People are staring," her perceptive daughter murmured beside her. Ginny took a deep, calming breath and patted the child on the head. "Forgive me, sweetheart." She turned to the goblin, her glittering brown eyes holding the promise of extreme violence in them and she said, politely, "May I speak with someone else who can explain to me _why_ I cannot get my gold?"

"Of course, _Madam_," the stout little man replied, as he hopped down from his stool and disappeared behind the tall counter. "Follow me." Ginny was almost startled to realize the goblin had moved so quickly around the corner, but hastily covered her reaction with a smile. The creature grunted at her and began to walk as briskly away from her as his little legs allowed. She and Lily followed quickly through the bank's lobby and the small, black door they were led to. The other side of the door revealed a long, narrow hallway with a single door at the end of it. The short goblin held his hand up to the mother and daughter, indicating that the pair should stop, and knocked on the door. "Madam, there is a woman to see you."

He traced a long finger across the width of the door and it seemed to melt to the floor, revealing a door of pale, pale wood. He opened this new door and bowed them in. Ginny took hold of her daughter's hand and walked into the large office. Unlike the rest of the building, the office was bright with light and color and sounds. A stone fountain trickled water tranquilly in one corner, while another housed a plant which seemed fascinated with its own reflection in a floor length mirror beside it.

"Come in, come in, come in," a low, accented purr from the center of the room. Ginny looked up and witnessed what appeared to be either a miraculously beautiful goblin or a grotesquely ugly woman. The intriguing creature smiled at her and her child and waved them to the chairs positioned at the other side of her large, ivory desk. "Sit, child, tell Madam Grime vat it is you need."

Ginny and Lily sat and the two redheads – usually so outspoken – struggled to find words when so close to a creature so magnificent. The goblin, Madam Grime she called herself, stared at them with dark, deep eyes and a wide, curving red smile, her skin luminescent as it was smooth as milk, and her hair – uncharacteristic to her heritage and ironically – was a shining goblin gold. Feeling a bit inferior, Ginny stared at the fingers fiddling with themselves in her lap before addressing this regal-like figure. "I am having a problem with obtaining my gold."

"A prrrroblem?" The goblin tapped her long red nails and even longer fingers against the thin wood grain patterns on her desk. "Be more specific, please."

"My name is Ginevra Potter – um, Weasley now, but I have access to the Potter family vault and the, uh, goblin out in the lobby told me the gold from that vault was unavailable to me?" Ginny told the woman hastily, hating the fact that her voice was adolescent and naïve in the presence of such an obviously powerful person.

"Of course the vault is unavailable," the Madam said flatly, her smile widening as she looked from the mother to her offspring. It further widened when Lily smiled back tentatively.

"Of course?"

"Yes, you see, the young goblin responsible for the vault of vhitch you speak, Gordineson –"

"Gordine –"

"Yes, ve just call him Gordy," the Madam interrupted. "Gordy was eaten by one of . . . Um . . . Gordy was lost to one of our various tunnels here at Gringotts."

After an uncomfortable silence in which Lily had to contain her giggles at the _almost_ mentions of dragons, Ginny finally asked, "So?"

"'So?' . . . Oh, yes, child! _So_, young Gordy vas the only one vith the access to your vault. In order to obtain _your_ gold, another goblin must be assigned and trained and a numerous amount of other things vhich can take months upon months upon years . . ."

"Months and years?! I need the money now! I have three kids!" Ginny shouted, standing abruptly. The beautiful goblin looked up at her, batting her long, pale lashes innocently as she did so.

"Surely, Miss Veasley, you have some other account of vhich you can obtain the sufficient funds to take care of your family. Any smart vitch, as yourself, knows not to put all of her dragon eggs in one cauldron." A wicked smile traced the Madam's features, making her even more beautiful, hauntingly so. "Surely, you know not to rely on just one source?"

* * *

Ursula and Mortimer were having a decidedly bad day. Well, at least Ursula was. She was not sure whether dodgy old Morty knew what day it was. There was the eventful incident that occurred in the Ministry cafeteria. Damn, condescending youths with their fancy blends of soups and lack of knowledge toward the culinary art of dragonplum pie. "It keeps you regular and puts fire in the heart all at once!" she had excitedly told her friend that morning, but – disappointingly – the cooks had yet to take the advice she had freely given for the past – what was it? Twenty years? – and dragonplum pie _had yet_ to join the menu. Oh well, at least there was always Exploding Bridge with the girls around noon. However, that had all gone to bust when Mortimer decided to remember the state of his hoodlum great-grandchildren and the pair had to floo straight away to Gringotts for their paychecks. Then the ugly, wrinkled, long nosed _ghouls_ told them they had no paychecks. What an upset that was to hear and the pair flooed back to the Ministry to visit someone to fix this obvious mistake. After all, they had been working for the Ministry of Magic for the greater part of the last century. Ursula ignored the stuttering receptionist as she dragged Mortimer towards the Head of the Ministry's Financial Department's office and opened the door wide to let that man have it . . .

Ursula was greeted by the sight of her fellow Deciders – a solemn looking Rododgeus, Mipsy appearing so nervous that she was actually producing incoherent squeaks, and a glowering Waltermore huffily push thick strands of his dark hair away from his face – and they all sat around a large round table with a familiar looking young man who beamed at her with what appeared to be a shining gold tooth and . . . was that a fang? Lastly, in the center of it all, sat the Head of the Ministry's Financial Departments smiling lightly at a stack of papers before him before lifting his silver gaze to the pair at the door.

"Hello," Draco Malfoy greeted them warmly before pointing to two chairs at the table that Ursula had not noticed before. "We've been waiting for you."

* * *

Ginevra Weasley was not a pack mule, no matter how much her back felt like it. Somehow, she had managed to Apparate a majority of her suitcases with her to Godric's Hollow and she practically collapsed with joy when she completed the amazing feat. After checking the quiet street for Muggles, she charmed the cases to follow her as she walked to her house. They continued to follow her as she walked past her house. They also followed her when she walked back and past her house once again. And then she realized that she had, in fact, not passed her house at all.

* * *

When Harry Potter was first accosted by the angry redhead, he was sitting at his best friend's kitchen table, reading an article from the Daily Prophet about a Wizards' Chess match gone array and drinking a cup of hot pumpkin juice. Said pumpkin juice was sent flying into the air when his enraged ex-wife appeared before him with a loud _pop_ that even seemed pissed.

"Where is it?"

"Where is what?!" he snapped back, hurriedly digging through his trousers to find his wand and magick the hot liquid from his shirt and chest. Had he not been so concerned with his scalded skin, he would have noticed that Ginny could have easily been recognized as the mascot for the Harpies Quidditch team she had so famously played on. However, he had no chance to look or speak or breathe before an angry fist clutched his wet shirt and yanked him into side-along Apparition.

"What the hell, Ginny?!" he growled out when he landed in a heap at her feet. He pushed himself to his feet in order for his glare to become more powerful, but faltered when he realized where they were. "Why –"

"Where is it, Harry?" she asked again, the tone of her voice too feral to even be categorized as a hiss. He furrowed his brow at her and spun around, his quick eyes taking in the familiarities of Godric's Hollow, but something was different.

After a moment, it clicked.

"Hey . . . Where's the house?"

Only his reflexes saved his nose from her fist, but – sadly – those reflexes had slowed a bit with age and he ended up with a cuffed ear. "Wha –"

"Don't even play dumb, Harry! You can't seriously think me too stupid to think you can't see the house!" she shouted as few people walked by with arching glances. He glanced back nervously and presented Ginny with a simple shrug. "Harry!"

"I can't see the house, Ginny! What else do you want from me?!" he told her, his voice so forceful that she swallowed her next sentence. "What the hell happened?"

"You cast the spell, Harry," she _informed_ him through her clenched, white teeth. "You tell me."

"I did not cast anything," he informed her back, walking towards the space the house was supposed to in and tripping over luggage. "What the hell are all these suitcases doing here?"

"Who cast the spell, Harry?"

He spun away at the accusation in her voice and frowned. "You don't honestly think I have anything to do with this?"

"I knew you were angry with me, but I didn't think that you'd be petty about it," she replied shortly and his vision became narrowed and clouded and red.

"Petty? I'm fucking petty, but you can take everything away from me in one foul swoop without a single word of protest against you? But I'm fucking petty!" He fisted both hands into his hair and bit his lip so not to yank it. "I don't think, with half the shit you pulled with me, it wouldn't be unwarranted for me to put the house into fucking orbit!"

"Is that what you did?"

He yanked his wand from his pocket and threw it to the dirt at her feet. "Check it!"

"Harry, I –" she began, but he growled low in his throat, so she picked up the accused wand and waved her own over it. "_Prior Incantato_." A small shadow of a tooth cleaning charm fizzed into the air before her and she blushed to her roots. "Harry, I'm sorry."

"Forget it," he said calmly, walking to her and holding his hand out to receive his wand. "I'll head to work, make a report, and have someone out to investigate it."

"Thank you," she replied quietly, but he frowned at her.

"Right."

* * *

"So, as I was telling your peers before you arrived," Draco began as Ursula helped Mortimer into his seat before taking her own, "I stopped the release of your paychecks. There seems to be a problem with paying you."

"A problem? What kind of problem?" Ursula replied hastily, her eyes trying to lock with a pair of confident ones amongst her friends. Finally, Rododgeus looked her dead in the face with a glower.

"Apparently, we're all hardened criminals," he drawled slowly, reaching into his robes and pulling out a pipe. He turned to Draco and asked, "Mind if I smoke?"

"Not at all," the hospitable blond replied, waving his wand and conjuring a crystal ashtray that sparkled as if it was made of ice. Silver eyes moved back to the newest editions to the room and the snarky snake had the nerve to smile at Ursula who instinctively straightened her spine. "Ole' Dodge is being too serious, Ursula, dear. I'm not accusing anyone of criminal activities."

"I am," the familiar looking young man beside him chuckled, earning an arched glance from the blond. "Sorry, mate." He made an elaborate show of miming the locking of his lips and tossing away the key.

"Forgive him, he's stupid," Draco told Ursula, causing the man beside him to laugh. "However, I'm afraid I am obligated, as the head of my department, to inform the Minister of Magic on my findings, as well as go public with them. As for criminal activities, I will not be accusing anyone of such things, but there are some past events that are a bit . . . suspicious." He tapped the pile of papers beneath his fingertips absently, but the sound was ominous just the same. "For example, your dear friend Mipsy, here, appears to have led a very sordid life as a youth with; dare I say . . . werewolf-hunters? As in wizards who made it their sole purpose in life to hunt down the poor, suffering outcasts of our society that holed themselves far away from any signs of the humanity they loathed to hurt and _killed_ them without mercy or regret."

"I was barely in my twenties!" Mipsy squeaked, her eyes wide and watery.

"It says here –" He waved a piece of parchment happily. "– that a fourth of your paycheck has been going to Hunter support and activist groups annually as recently as –" He glanced at the paper once more. "– last Tuesday. The Ministry frowns on bigotry, Miss Mipsy, as does the rest of society. Bigotry is an ugly thing."

"You should know, Muggle-hater," the blond's friend mumbled as he stared idly at his nails.

"Shut up, niffler-butt," Draco snarled before turning his attentions back to the squeaky woman. "There was also an incident where your daughter was romantically involved with the man who invented the Wolfsbane Potion . . . Whatever happened to your daughter, Miss Mipsy?"

Mipsy turned a strange shade of purple which seemed to satisfy Draco just fine. His mercury gaze traced the pages at his hands a moment before it drifted to the Decider known as Rododgeus. The man took a long drag from his pipe before setting it in the ashtray and meeting those eyes through a veil of wispy smoke.

"I already know what I've done, boy. No need on the recap," he growled in warning, but Draco smiled.

"Oh, but the entire point of this _meeting_ is to put all these transgressions out into the open. Don't you want to be honest with your friends, Dodge? Don't they have the right to know about your first and only love?"

The man's eyes narrowed dangerously and Draco knew he had won. The blond shrugged dismissively and smiled a bit wider. "I guess no one wants to hear about mass Muggle murders nowadays anyway. That fad died with the Dark Lord, hmm? Speaking of the Dark Lord . . ." He drifted off, stared at the dark haired man glaring at him as his son would to set his hair on fire, and rubbed his arm. "Does yours ever just itch for no reason, sometimes?"

The man said nothing, but moved is left arm closer to his torso.

"I bet yours burned brighter and longer than mine ever did, you bloody hypocrite," Draco hissed, his nails digging into his arm as he held the man's gaze. "I know about you. I know what you've done . . . My father fucking admired you. Your legacy precedes you and it always will, no matter how quickly you reform or who you associate yourself with or who you rat out or who you have to _kill_ to keep your secrets secret . . . You will always be this mark on your arm, this scar. It will never leave. It's branded into your bone and you can only hope to make your empty life feel somewhat full by condemning others for your fucking crimes." The man broke his gaze and Draco sat back down in his seat, a bit surprised that he had not realized he was even standing. He cleared his throat and looked to his friend. "Theodore?"

Theodore, as the young rogue was called, laid his lazy gaze on a mortified Ursula and an unaware Mortimer. "Morty is just too damn easy, but Ursula, darling, did you really think no one was going to know what you've done to your poor husband to make him so . . . Well, just look at him."

Ursula gasped and clutched Mortimer's hand.

"I want to tell you a story," the demon suggested with a fanged grin. "Once upon a time, there was a man who lied and cheated and stole from anyone in his path. This man was uncaring in his social life, but shrewd in business and he worked and worked and worked no matter how his loving wife begged him to come home and love her back. He never loved her back, but he _loved_ other women behind her back. One day, this cruel man, selfish in his gold and sex and power, finally came home – and you know what his loving wife did upon his return?"

"Oh no," Ursula whispered, dropping her husband's hand to cup both of her own over her mouth as tears filled her eyes.

"What did that loving wife do, Theodore?" Draco asked softly and Theodore's grin faded away.

"One day, this cruel man, selfish in his gold and sex and power, finally came home . . . and his loving wife _Crucioed_ him until he had not the will to ever leave again."

"My God," Mipsy squeaked as she stared horrified at the accused couple. "You did that to Mortimer?"

"How do you know that?!" Ursula snapped, pushing herself out of her chair in outrage. "There's no way you could ever know that!"

"My mother told me," Theo replied.

"How did she –"

"Her mother told her," he interrupted. "And her mother saw _her_ mother do it, Grandmother."

Ursula cupped her mouth again and fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"Why?" Mipsy asked Draco, her eyes wide and pleading as she stared at his cold ones. "We can't take back what we've already _Decided_!"

"That's true," he said softly, a shadow of a Slytherin smile on his lips. "But you can suffer with us just the same."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Draco Malfoy is a bad, bad man. I love it! _**-DMH**_


	12. Albus Severus Potter

**Author's Note:** For the last time, I do NOT condone spork violence! _**–DMH**_

* * *

"So I arrested two old ladies, sent an old man to St. Mungo's, and there are two other old men who I suddenly have to surveillance by order of the Minister. Oh, and they all happen to be the people who _Decided_ that I didn't need money or a home or my children. Do you happen to know what all that's about?"

"No," Draco replied simply to the man standing in the doorway of his office. "Need anything else? I was planning on getting a cup of tea when I was finished here."

"No, nothing else," Harry replied, walking further to the room and allowing the door to fall closed behind him. "So . . ."

"So . . ." The blond replied, his nearly white eyebrow arched in patronizing question. He crossed his arms behind his head and watched Harry's slow approach to his side of the desk.

"So . . . you wanna blowjob?" his lover asked softly as he pushed his way between the blond's legs to tower over him.

"Sure."

"No," Harry replied simply, moving back and taking a seat on top of Draco's desk and on top of the papers Draco had been working on.

"You suck," the blond growled.

"No, I don't," Harry laughed. "That's the point."

"What do you want?" Draco asked, pushing his chair closer to his desk until he was nestled between his lover's legs and Harry's crotch was chest level. "Other than to tease me and ask about old people."

Harry shrugged, slapped the other's hands away from his thighs, and sighed, "I just wanted to know something."

"What?"

"You didn't . . . You didn't do anything like that to Ginny, did you?"

"Like what?" was the bland reply and Harry sighed again.

"Did you Draco?"

The blond shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Maybe a blowjob would persuade me?"

Harry ignored the comment and hopped off the desk into Draco's lap. Warm, silver eyes opened and a smirk threatened to form on curving pink lips. "You know . . ."

"Hmm?"

"You know . . . It takes a certain level of dark magic to perform the Fidelius Charm on property that the spell caster does not own."

"Not dark magic, old magic," Draco corrected, his hands tracing up and down Harry's back.

"Old dark magic," Harry corrected. "No matter what you say, there are rolls upon rolls of parchment written up as to why performing such a charm is illegal."

"Are you going to arrest me, Auror Potter?"

"How come that just sounds like you're initiating a game of role-play?"

Draco arched his brow suggestively and Harry began to smile, falling down with the blond into seductive immaturity.

Fifteen minutes into their lovemaking, however, an ominous knock on the door caused Draco to pause his tongue's exploration of the many planes of Harry's body. The half-dressed blond lifted his head over his desk and, with eyes full of fury, barked, "What? I'm in the process of getting arrested, here!"

His secretary tentatively opened the door and peered into the office, her eyes only widening marginally in surprise to seeing her boss' shirtless shoulders. "Umm, there's a Ginevra Weasley here searching for Harry Potter."

"Why would he be in my office?" Draco snarled causing the timid woman to cringe. Harry began to rise from his position on the floor, but a strong hand pressed him back. "Stay down. You're not here."

"But I want to know what she wants."

"Your head on a stick, now stay down," the blond quipped before turning back to his secretary. "Please just tell her we'll be out in a moment. Harry just needs to put his pants back on; make sure you mention that." Harry then sat up and punched him on the shoulder. "Ow."

"Can you even try to not be an ass or is it already too engrained into your nature?" the brunet asked as the secretary scurried out of the room. Draco just smiled and shrugged as he tossed his lover's trousers over.

"You know, everything I do is for you," he said and the smile that graced Harry's face dropped with his sudden serious expression. "I love you, Potter."

"I love you, too," Harry said, dropping his pants and reaching out to the blond to grant him a sweet kiss. "Just . . . try not to do anything too illegal for me, alright?"

"Too late," came the whispered reply and Harry punched him on the shoulder. "Ow."

Finally, when trousers were on, shirts were button, hair was brought into a semblance of order, and a shoulder was punched one more time, the two men left the office and were immediately assaulted by the angry gaze of an angered woman.

"What took you two so long?" she snapped.

Draco's eyes widened as he looked to his secretary. "Didn't I tell you to tell her that Harry needed time to put his pants back on? Ow."

Harry glared at the man rubbing his freshly punched shoulder before turning back to Ginny. "What's wrong now? I told you I sent people to investigate the house."

"I know, but there's something else I didn't tell you."

"What?"

She threw a strained glance in Draco's direction and sighed. "I'd rather not discuss this with you considering present company."

"Well, I was just about to pop off to the cafeteria for a cup of tea, anyway," Draco said, surprising Harry with his sudden graciousness until he finished his statement, "and Harry's coming with me, so I suggest if you want to speak to him, you do it now because it will be a cold day in the dragon's lair when you ever get the chance to speak to him again, let alone stand this close to him."

The redhead blanched and nodded. "I'll join you in the cafeteria."

"Excellent," the blond chuckled, taking Harry's hand in his and leading the way.

* * *

Albus Severus Potter was sitting under a tree beside the great Black Lake, minding his own business when a loud crack sounded above him and he ended up with a lap full of Scorpius Malfoy.

"What the hell, Malfoy?!"

"Hullo," the blond replied solemnly as he pushed himself to his feet and brushed the dirt, twigs, and leaves from his robes and hair.

"What the hell?!"

"Oh," the blond said drily as if just realizing what happened. "I was just testing a hover spell."

And with that, the young Malfoy strolled away leaving the young Potter sitting under a tree beside the great Black Lake with his mouth agape.

* * *

"So, what's this all about?" Harry asked his ex-wife as he watched his lover spoon a ridiculous amount of sugar into his tea.

"I was sent a summons this morning."

"A summons for what?" Draco asked, frowning that he was running out of sugar.

"The Wizengamot," Harry answered before Ginny could, causing the woman to frown in his direction. "Remember the hours we spent at the Minister's office after the trial?"

"How could I not? The instructive magazines in the waiting room taught me how to make Crispy Coconut Cauldron Cakes," the blond chuckled, hiding his smirk behind the cup of tea he had raised to his mouth.

"Well, I convinced Kingsley to consider a retrial for my case against Ginny." Draco watched in delight as the witch's fingers curled into a tight fist. "And now that one of the Deciders is clinically insane I'm guessing that's what triggered the sudden summons."

"What are you looking to gain from this?" Draco asked drily as he looked at the redhead's steadily reddening face. "A complete retrial?"

"No, just custody of my children and my parents' home."

"You mean the home no one can find?" the blond chuckled, swiftly hiding his new smirk with another sip of tea.

"Please," Ginny suddenly cried out in a small, strangled voice. "Please, Harry." Two pairs of eyes snapped to the woman then and she paled until her freckles seemed to glow. She looked to her shaking hands in hesitation before she continued, "You can't . . . take them away from me. They're all I have of you, now."

Green eyes widened as Harry stared at his ex-wife, fully unaware of the anger clouding his lover's eyes. "Gin –"

"Well, you had him last month and see how horrendously that turned out?" the blond hissed, causing a gasp from the redhead and an indignant "Draco!" from the brunet. "I despise your behavior and yours, Harry, for falling for it even after all she's done. How dare she use her own children for her own selfish gain?"

"How dare you use the problems of our marriage for your own selfish gain!" she snapped back. "How is that any better?!"

"It's better when the 'problems' of your marriage was you ending your marriage!"

"Stop it," Harry sighed, knowing his words meant nothing when Ginny was already rising to her feet. Draco was one step ahead of her, however; he was on his feet with his wand clutched tight in his fist. Harry glanced, forlorn, around the room of gaping witches and wizards and wished himself the ability to melt into the cafeteria's worn out wooden floor when a photographer from one of the various wizarding newspapers began to openly snap pictures. Then, Draco began to smile; he did not pocket his wand, but just smiled.

"I'll tell you this right now, just because you're upsetting my lover," he told the redhead, a set of silver and a set of brown eyes flicking over to the brunet who glared back with a wide, emerald gaze. "It doesn't really matter how I got him, does it? The point is, I have him and you don't and unlike you – and remember what I say Ginevra, it's important – I will never give _anyone_ the chance to steal him away from me."

"You know, I really like being objectified," Harry sighed.

"Shut up, Potter," the blond replied with a smirk before directing his attention back to the fuming woman. "Let me just be frank since my kitten's being huffy . . ." He trailed off to trail a finger under Harry's chin as the other man rolled his eyes. "The point is: I win and you lose."

* * *

Albus Severus Potter was going to do it.

He was finally going to do it.

He had planned it out perfectly. He was to march across the Great Hall, tap the beautiful blonde known as Rowan Ravynwood on the shoulder, and ask her to accompany him to the Hufflepuff versus Slytherin Quidditch match.

Albus Severus Potter stood. Albus Severus Potter took a step forward. Albus Severus Potter took another step forward. Albus Severus Potter tripped. Albus Severus Potter glared up at the blond who sudden appeared before him, first his impeccably shining shoes and then all the way up to his impeccably shining hair.

"Oops," Scorpius Malfoy said softly as he walked around the brunet spread across the cold, stone floor. "I was just practicing a posture charm my mother taught me."

Albus Severus Potter bared his teeth as the young blond strolled away, but turned when he heard the giggling of the beautiful blonde known as Rowan Ravynwood.

Albus Severus Potter wanted to die.

* * *

The blast that erupted from the end of Ginny's wand sent Draco flying ten, maybe fifteen yards away from his original position. Surely, the man's sudden momentum would have sent him farther, but the wall had respectfully stopped him. Well, as best as it could; brick was only so stable, after all.

Harry stood and stared at the man with wide, worried eyes. He was halfway across the room when his body automatically sighed relief upon an angry Draco rising from broken bricks and dust with blazing mercury eyes. His wand lifted and all Harry could think was, _'Please, no dark spells. We're in the Ministry.'_

"_Lacarnum Inflamarae!_" the blond snarled and a ball of fire shot across the room and straight at Ginny.

Cameras – by now, several photographers had arrived – flashed as Harry stepped forward and dispelled the disastrous spell before it could hit the woman. Draco opened his mouth to protest h action but stopped abruptly at the sight over Harry's shoulder of something silver erupting from the end of Ginny's wand and slicing through the air towards him. He managed to duck away from it, or so he thought, until he heard a collective gasp from the crowd that had quickly formed in the cafeteria. He glared around the room, confused for a moment before he looked to his lover and saw the shocked green gaze directed to the floor near his feet. He looked down and his vision seemed to have blurred for that moment.

At his feet lay more than half the length of his ponytail.

He lifted a hand experimentally to the back of his head and felt his braid – considerably shorter than it was only minutes before – loosening and ending just at the base of his neck. He looked up at Harry and the brunet merely stepped back, out of the way, leaving his path to the redhead wide and clear.

"_Utens Oppugno_!" he bellowed and every fork, spoon, knife, and combination of the three that the room held flew up from the floor, the tables, even people's hands to attack the redhead. The tools for eating flurried around her; swooping in to poke and jab her like raging birds of prey, but barely grazing her. As she ran from the room, screaming, Harry sighed and walked to the blond mourning his lost hair. As they walked out of the cafeteria, full of chattering people and flashing cameras, Harry wrapped his arm around the other's thin waist and frowned.

"They're probably going to use this against me in the Wizengamot."

"She started it," Draco said gruffly, stuffing his ponytail into his pocket. "I feel like this is one of those moments that no one should ever mention again, but it will be in the papers for weeks now."

Harry nodded as they made it into the golden elevator. They rode the device quietly until Draco noticed an emerald gaze on him.

"What?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing . . . just . . . What made you choose that silly spell?"

It was Draco's turn to shrug as the doors opened before them. "I knew you didn't want me to hurt her, so I decided to just scare her a little." Harry laughed and he leaned forward to kiss the endearing smile. "Hopefully, the sporks will drive her insane."

* * *

**Author's Note:** Okay, so maybe I condone a little bit of spork violence. Sorry this chapter is so short and that it took so long. School is killing me, I'm sick because it's snowing – stupid Ohio – and writer's block sucks! I promise the next chapter will be much better than this one with the Wizengamot and all. Thanks for reading! _**-DMH**_


	13. Son of a Death Eater

**Author's Note:** I know, I'm a loser for not updating, but . . . here you go. _**–DMH**_

*

Though Harry had witnessed the dark splendor of the Manor Malfoy – despite how brief the witnessing had been before he was discarded to the dungeons – and had acquired extensive knowledge of Draco's lavish London flat, seeing as the blond had forced him to move in within the past week, but the brunet was in no way prepared for the sight of the awe-inspiring home Draco had lived in with Pansy. Surrounded by forests and fields such a vivid green that only the home's location in Ireland could provide. As if the views were not enough, the home had the audacity to create a sight of itself; it would be no exaggeration to call it a fairytale castle. It was not, by any means, equivalent to Hogwarts Castle in size, but the beauty of the aged, smoky grey stones that provided the walls far surpassed even the most extravagant of Hogwart's features.

"You lived here?!" Harry blurted as he and Draco appeared with a _pop_ at the center of a large garden that served as a path towards the castle's entrance.

"For thirteen years, yes," Draco commented drily as he tugged absently on the edges of his travelling gloves. "Come on."

Harry followed the other man somewhat eagerly, wishing he had the ability to see everywhere at once as they passed various bushes charmed into the moving shapes of magical animals.

A large, leafy owl flapped its wings at him and he smiled widely. "What spell is this on these plants?"

"Not sure," Draco said, reaching out to tug on Harry's arm to help him keep pace, despite the many distractions. "You would have to ask the herbologists."

Harry nodded and entwined his fingers with the other man's. Draco led him up a number of stairs and platforms and more stairs. "Surely, all of this isn't necessary . . . Why did you two move here as newlyweds?"

"Pansy had it in her head that we were going to breed like rabbits and produce a brood to rival the Weasleys', so she wanted to move into a neighborhood close to the school for when we had children. However, I always saw myself with one or no children and I've never had the urge to live in a neighborhood with _other people_, so we compromised."

"Amazing," the man with green eyes wide with astonishment replied as the pair finally reached the front entrance. "And you couldn't Apparate us any closer?"

A silver brow lifted just as a small smirk graced pink lips. "I'll admit it, I wanted to show off."

They were greeted immediately by a team of house-elves dressed in ivory togas of towels or dresses of pillowcases, each adorned with the Malfoy family crest.

"Lord Malfoy! Lord Malfoy!" they squeaked and shouted at the sight of Draco.

"You're a lord now?" Harry chuckled in question. The blond shrugged and waved a lazy hand to gesture to the large foyer surrounding them.

"Look how big the house is, I need an ego just to step foot in here, let alone own it."

"And, apparently, a lordship." Draco merely smiled and began to walk toward the end of the foyer and the large, black wooden door that stood there. The door swung open immediately as the pair walked into the vicinity of it and revealed a long hallway whose walls were filled with various paintings and decorative candle hangings that provided the light. "I still don't understand the necessity of all this extravagance."

Harry suddenly found himself yanked to his lover's hard body and wrapped in strong arms. "That's because you come from humble beginnings, my cute little kitty," Draco purred as he tickled the sensitive skin directly above the brunet's Adam's apple. "When we're married, I'll buy you a castle twice as big."

"Please don't," Harry said with a roll of his eyes, but he accepted the other's chuckling lips all the same. "Why are we here anyway? You said we were meeting someone to defend me in the Wizengamot."

"We are."

"Pansy?"

"Of course not!" the blond snorted. "With her defending you, you'd end up in prison charged with the audacity to bring er into court with you. No, definitely not Pansy."

"Then who?" the other inquired as they began to walk once more and more doors swung open before them.

"The man who is fucking Pansy, that's who."

Before Harry could respond with another question, more doors swung open and revealed a rather handsome study, adorned with bookshelves on each wall and filled with beautiful cherry-wood furniture, large, regal looking chairs and an ornamental couch that a pair of people were sitting on upon Draco's and Harry's arriving. Harry recognized the woman immediately as Draco's ex-wife. She sat perfectly on the couch, her back straight as a pin and her long legs crossed and revealed despite the length of her silky blue robes. She stood immediately, her face going from relaxed, to strained, to smiling in a blink of the eye.

"Draco!" she greeted, gracefully crossing the room and abandoning her companion that remained sitting on the couch. When she reached the blond, they exchanged light kisses on the cheek and smiled at one another. Harry tried to ignore how beautiful she had become after their school years, but her stunning features were hard for one's gaze to avoid when they were hanging all over your lover. "I read the papers, but I didn't think you'd really let anyone do it. Your hair . . ."

Draco almost smiled at the mourning tone the woman had used. He allowed her fingers to skate through the length of golden hair that _just_ fell beneath his ears _just_ for the satisfaction of watching how emerald eyes narrowed as Harry adjusted his glasses. "Well, I'm guessing it was time for a cut anyway. Ginevra must have felt the same."

"That's horrible, Draco dear, but I must say it looks wonderful on you . . . the cut, I mean."

"Thank you. Mother found me a suitable hairdresser in Espesh Alley. I could give you the address if you want –" Harry cleared his throat. "You know Harry," Draco said softly, indicating the brunet with a nod.

The other brunette turned her dark gaze to Harry and managed a tight smile for him as her hand dropped from blond locks. "Of course," she said, holding out her hand to him. "Harry."

"Pansy," he replied, taking her hand.

"You remember Theodore, don't you?" she asked him, turning her eyes to the man by the couch that had risen at the voicing of his name. The man walked over to them and held his hand out to Harry.

"I'm sorry," Harry started as he shook hands with the man smiling at him with a gold tooth and a . . . fang? "I can't say that I remember you."

"That's fine," the man chuckled. "I have to say that I prefer that I not be remembered. I'm Theodore Nott, just in case anyway."

"Theodore Nott? It rings a bell," he admitted.

"Draco," Theo sighed, looking to his friend. "It hurts me that you don't speak of me to anyone. I thought we were friends."

"Shut up, niffler-butt," Draco laughed, surprising Harry as he clapped the man who was sleeping with Pansy on the back as if they _were_ friends and steered him back to the couch. The Draco he knew was very selfish with things he considered his, even when they were no longer his anymore. The brunet eyed this new Draco warily as they sat on a couch across from Pansy and Theo. "I've never mentioned you because you were never important until now."

The man pouted and ran a hand through tawny locks of hair. "Well, _Harry_, I was in your year. You probably don't remember me because I was one of the few Slytherins whose heads you didn't see stuck up Draco's ass."

Harry laughed at the statement until Draco gave him an icy glance. "What? It was funny."

"If you recall, Theodore, I hung out with Draco then," the brunette said, quietly fishing for the compliments Theo usually provided in tenfold.

"Of course everyone remembers you on your own, my love," the man purred, effectively turning the woman into warm goo even as he exchanged a smirk with Draco. "My flower, my Pansy-rose, hearts beat and murmured with your sighs, souls soared with your smiles, and jealousy spread every time you blessed one with a touch. Of course, everyone remembers you without . . . What's His Face over there."

"Hey, 'What's His Face' over here resents that comment," Draco laughed. "Pansy, darling, I'm sorry, but you were nothing without me."

As her laughter glittered through the air, Theo leaned over and took her lips in a light kiss. She blushed as she glanced at the two other men in the room, the flush furthering when she gave Draco another glance. He smiled without any noticeable ill-will, but – like Harry – she seemed shocked that the blond had no problems with the display of affection her new lover had given them. She cleared her throat and sighed, "Let us move on to the business then, shall we?"

"I think that would be best," Harry agreed as his emerald gaze shifted to the mysterious Theodore Nott. "Why do you feel you'll be ideal for representing me against my ex-wife in the Wizengamot?"

"Didn't Draco give you a list of my accolades and accomplishments?" the man asked, the left side of his mouth lifting up in a crooked grin and revealing a curve of that peculiar fang.

"Of course he did," Harry said as he pulled the papers from a pocket in his robes. "And as _unblemished_ as this list is, I would like to know the man who shares a surname with one of Voldemort's most loyal men and blood with one of the people that stole my children away from me."

Theo light eyes glittered with excitement as he pulled that arm he had over Pansy's shoulders back to his side and leaned forward, towards Harry. "And I thought you didn't remember me."

"I still don't, but I told you the name rang a bell; it was on the list of contacts the Decider known as Ursula has. It was given to me after I arrested her. You are listed as her great-grandson and a brief profile on you says that you had a stint in Azkaban once or twice or _five times_. Once again, why do you, an Azkaban veteran and son of a Death Eater, think you are ideal for defending me, the man responsible for putting a number of your family members into the prison you escaped, in the Wizengamot . . . Assuming you even have the ability to do so."

"Draco, you never told me Potter was so cute," Theo said softly before pressing his fang into his bottom lip. "That's a good question, Harry. I do have the ability. As I hope Draco will tell you, I am talented in many fields and I come from a long line of people whose lives were devoted to the law."

"And those devoted to corrupting it," Draco added with a delighted grin.

"Shut up, you heard him say he just arrested the old bag; let it go!" the other man snarled back before adopting his usual grin and turning it to Harry once more. "Before I got arrested . . . I think, the second time, I studied at the Gwendolyn Bones Academy of Law, Law Enforcement, and the Culinary Arts. Very, highly prestigious."

Draco leaned over to Harry and whispered theatrically loud into his ear, "He also makes the most fantastic pie."

Theo merely granted the man with a bored stare. "I've been proven innocent of all the cases in which I was imprisoned for."

"Meaning that someone on the outside of Azkaban was foolish enough to take the blame and take his place when he was already imprisoned and unable to do anything."

"Draco, you arse, you're the one who recommended me to your lover, why are you being an arse?!"

The blond shrugged. "I'm bored? I'm not sure, but what I am sure of is . . . you need to tell Harry _why_ you are the exact man for the job."

Theo smiled and blushed and smiled again as Pansy pouted and crossed her arms over her chest. "Because the Minister of Magic wants to be my lover."

*

James stared at the trembling figure with the burning jade gaze and the windswept hair that looked like onyx flames and the bared, clenched white teeth that emitted the occasional growl and wondered how such a creature was once his brother, Albus. Every cell in the eleven year old boy's body rumbled with fury and furious sparks of red and black spurt from the end of the wand tightly gripped in a hand adorned with snow white knuckles. The small vision of anger stood in the doorway of James' second year dorm room and brought with it a darkness that the other of his roommates in the room felt as it moved further into the room.

"What happened to you?" James asked simply as he put down the Sneakoscope his father had given him the previous Christmas and stood.

"That slimy . . . snaky . . . GIT kissed Rowan Ravynwood . . . right in front of me in the halls . . . ON THE MOUTH!" Albus burst out, causing more spark to sputter from his wand.

"Who?"

"Scorpius Malfoy!"

"Er . . . So what are you telling me for?"

"You must help me destroy him."

*

"Kingsley Shacklebolt wants to be your lover?" Harry asked. "Why?"

"What can I say? I have sex appeal," Theo chuckled softly. "And before you ask how this situation is advantageous to you, my pet, just think how easy it will be to win a case that is already on your side when the Minister of Magic is on your side as well . . . Especially when said minister is the Head Warlock of the Wizengamot."

Harry turned to Draco only to see that his lover's face also hosted the same smile Theo's face did. "What's the problem?"

"You Slytherins are mad, that's the bloody problem," Harry snorted, glancing back and forth between the two other men and the silent Pansy. "The Wizengamot is comprised of a number of witches and wizards."

"Well, looking back at the court history of the Wizengamot since _Kingsley_ –" Pansy frowned at the way he purred the name. "– became the Minister, more than half the old farts fall asleep during the cases and wake up only to agree with his judgment. Also, a number of them owe him special favors."

"A number of them owe you 'special favors' as well, Theo," Draco inferred.

"That too," Theo said with a crooked smile. "So Potter, my pet, what do you think?"

*

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was whistling.

Not a normal habit and not as fully satisfying as a full on gloat, but the glare he received from one Albus Potter as he passed by, whistling his pretty tune, lifted him onto cloud nine.

And if cloud nine included kissing a _girl_ for the next few days, then so be it.

*

"I must say," began Kingsley as he tugged at the neck of his plum colored robes. "That this is the first time that a custody case has been raised to the highest court, but – seeing as our legal system is in a bit of a jumble right now – I can only ask that all involved in the proceedings remain as unbiased and fair as possible. Do you have something to say, Mister Nott?"

A slow smile spread across the tawny haired man's face and gold glinted for all to see. "No thank you, _Minister Kingsley_."

The man nodded – after a moment of gazing at the man with the pinstriped purple suit with somewhat open admiration – and addressed the group of wizards and witches behind him with the question, "What say you, Wizards of the Wizengamot? Will the result of this hearing be fair and unbiased."

"Aye," came the unanimous roar of the witches and wizards that had yet to fall asleep.

"Then stand, Mister Potter, Miss Weasley, and their respected counsels." The minister waited until Harry and Theo stood and, across the room, Ginny stood with her counsel of Blaise Zabini. Harry remembered the outrage Draco expressed when that surprising news reached his ears, claiming that, "It's just like the bitch to pit Slytherin against Slytherin. She's probably fucking him, too . . . Whore."

And Harry found himself agreeing with the blunt statement as he met the black man's smug hazel gaze and watched as his hand settled on the small of his ex-wife's back.

*

**Author's Note:** That's all for right now. I'm thinking the next chapter is going to be more of the Wizengamot hearing or more Scorpius and Albus action. I'm not sure right now. However, if you would like to read something good, will you please read my Grindlewald/Dumbledore story, _My Heart of Hearts_? I worked really hard on it and I would really like some feedback.

Also, I should inform some people that I have not abandoned _The Lunacy of Rain_, I only had a fight with it and I will try my best to update it after this story is completed. Same thing for _Handlebars_.

Anywho, the next thing you all will probably see from me is an oneshot called _This First Secret_ which is a prelude to _No One's Secret to Keep_ that shows the first time Draco and Harry were together. It's cute.

Thanks for reading. _**-DMH**_

**_p.s._** Forgive me for putting Theo in a purple suit. In my mind he looks like Heath Ledger . . .


	14. A Sprinkle of Hypocrisy

"Ladies and gentlemen of the esteemed Wizengamot, I can only ask you to step into Miss Weasley's shoes and imagine what it had to be like to be the wife of Harry Potter." A few of the older witches on the stands blushed at Blaise Zabini's words, granting Harry with quick glances as they did. "Now, I know it seems like a glamorous life; all the acknowledgement, all the praise, all the advantages of being the hero of the world . . .

"Now imagine if all of that was not important in the least, if the name Harry Potter was nothing but a name, and if all the attention that was shined onto your life eclipsed the love you thought you shared with your spouse. It is the dark side of fame; my mother has experienced it and many others, as well. Your life is slowly . . . engrossed by the glittering surface of fame and everything you know, everything you've lived for becomes nothing but a shallow pool of lies and deception. Imagine, ladies and gentlemen of the esteemed Wizengamot, a fake life, originally created for the sole purpose of projection towards the masses, becoming your real life with the sole purpose of projecting – to you – a substitute of what marriage should be." Zabini had – long since – been pacing back and forth through the rounded room, the steel toes of his boots clicking ominously on the cold stone floor and echoing into the otherwise quiet room until he halted all movement abruptly. "What Ginevra Weasley and Harry Potter had in these past few years was not a marriage . . .

"It was a farce! A fantasy! A dream! Whatever you wish to call it . . . it was just not real . . . And to have children suffer in such a . . . false reality of love should be considered a crime. I will not, just for the sense of argument, say that Mister Potter is any way responsible for the way he is treated or his past or the way in which he was raised, but I know that no child should be subjected to the environment the circumstances of his life have created. Ladies and gentlemen of the esteemed Wizengamot," the man continued as his feet began to move again. "Imagine, just imagine, what it would be like to be the wife of Harry Potter and the mother of the children his life neglects."

Harry watched with cold eyes as the man took his seat by Ginny and those cold eyes further narrowed when he saw the redhead pat him on the knee. He jumped when a groping hand patted him a bit higher than his knee and glared at Theo as the tawny-haired man stood and marched into the center of the room.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the blah blah blah, you know why we are here," Nott began, causing several cringes around the room and smiling widely at each one, especially Harry's. "We are here to make a correction. The previous _deciders_ of this case's verdict were corrupt and highly slanted in the favor of young Miss Weasley, here. Disgustingly so, you might say. And I should know, afterall, my Nana was one of the Deciders." He stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth and crossed his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders. Then, he smiled at Kingsley widely as if he had not just presented himself as the Wizengamot's court jester . . . Kingsley, the fool, smiled back. "Well, that's all I have to say for an opening. May we call witnesses now?"

"Perhaps after Miss Weasley's counsel has a chance to call upon witnesses and such, hmm?" the Minister suggested and Theo pouted innocently before sitting down, giving Harry a wink that sent the man's heart toppling into his stomach. Blaise stood with a florish and called his first witness; Ginny.

The redhead stood and walked across the room, making the face Harry was oh so familiar with that conveyed in tight lines that she was aware of everyone looking at her and was trying her best to ignore it. She sat on a chair that appeared in the center of the room right in front of the Wizengamot's seats, but facing away from them. She stared Harry in the eye, but only briefly before the tall and rather regal Counseler Zabini began to circle around her.

"Please state your name for all of us who may not yet know," Blaise demanded as he paced behind the woman.

"Ginevra Weasley."

"Miss Weasley, please state your relationship with the wizard Harry Potter."

"I am his ex-wife and the mother to our three children."

"Please tell the Wizengamot why we are in session today. What are your intentions?"

"I want … compensation."

"Compensation?"

"I want full custody of my children and the house we all lived in together before … the divorce."

"And what does this compensate for, Miss Weasley?" Blaise purred as he stepped around the chair and stared down at the redhead with a seemingly sympathetic expression on his face.

Ginny stared at the pale hands she had folded in her lap and sighed a bit. "I don't want my children to suffer. Harry is … was hardly home. He is the head of the Aurors' Department in the Ministry, so he is constantly being called away from the house and he works long hours. He … He doesn't have the time for our children."

"And what of your relationship with Mister Potter?"

"My relationship?" Ginny asked as if surprised by the question as she stared up at the wizard from under her lashes. "We … didn't have much of a relationship … We were together during our school days and … circumstances kept us away – or at least him away. Our true relationship – that is, our marriage, didn't start until … I got pregnant."

"So you believe your pregnancy to be the cause behind your marriage, then?" Blaise asked.

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but was easily interrupted by Theo's strong tone, "I do believe that he's leading. I don't recall her saying those words and while the story he is insisting on helping to concoct seems well thought out and sweet even, it is merely a story – not fact – and can hardly be used to determine the outcome of this trial for assets, but merely as a tool to sway the Wizengomat to a certain side and forgive me for this run-on sentence."

Harry stared at his snaky arguer as he had grown a hydra head as the Minister nodded and ordered Zabini to avoid such leading actions. Blaise nodded his consent and announced that the witness was now Theo's, so the sandy-haired man stood and walked into the center of the room so that he stood three feet in front of Ginny. He stared down at her and stared and stared and stared until she – and a great many others in the room – was fidgeting.

"Miss Weasley, please tell me of your profession."

A confused expression flittered across Ginny's face, but she replied, "I am a commenter for various Quidditch games and my articles often appear in the _Britain Banshee_ and regularly appear in the _Daily Prophet_. I'm the Senior Quidditch correspondent."

"Forgive me," Theo sighed. "I meant, please tell of your profession before your current one."

"I was a player for the Holyhead Harpies."

"How many seasons were you with the Harpies?"

"Eleven seasons," she replied with a shrug as if to say, "Your point?"

"Eleven years with the Harpies? Hmm?" Theo theatrically tapped a finger on his jaw line as if in deep thought. "It had to be a rather intense eleven years, hmm? The Harpies are a Division One professional team. They travel all over the country – to different countries, even. Not to even mention the training. You must have been a busy bee, hmm, Miss Weasley?"

"Of course," Ginny answered easily. "It's all about discipline and determination."

"Alright. Can you tell the Wizengamot what important event occurred during your second season with Holyhead?"

"I …" A look of horror spread across Ginny's face as she choked on her words and looked to her counsel for help. However, Blaise was too busy glaring at the back of Theo's head to help her in anyway, so the silence in the rather large room rang loudly.

"Will you please answer the question, Miss Weasley," an elderly witch in the Wizengamot asked politely. Ginny's head snapped up, towards her, and the redhead nodded minutely before continuing on.

"I was pregnant and married Harry."

"How long was your leave from the league during your time of pregnancy and afterward?"

"Um … Eleven months."

"Wow, less than a year and you were already back in shape to leave your – just barely – two month old son with his grandmother to play again. Amazing," Theo sighed with exaggerated awe. He stepped away from Ginny just as she cried out, "Are you calling me a bad mother?!" His eyebrows rose at the sudden question as whispers began to rise around the room and he turned back towards her as he adjusted the purple lapels of his jacket. "No. I am merely saying that you, like your husband, had a very busy profession that occupied much of your time. May I ask you – if you're calm enough to answer the question – how many times did you leave your children to stay with your mother when they were below the age of eight?"

Ginny sighed and shook her head as she looked down at her hands as if they held the answer. "I'm not sure … Not too much, though. She didn't always look after them."

"Then who did, since you were usually away?"

The woman flushed as deep a red as her own hair and answered softly, "Harry."

"You mean to tell me that your husband, with his busy Auror schedule and his constant trips away from home and long stays in the office, was the one to stay home with your children as you played for the Harpies during the early years of your marriage and your children's lives?"

"Y-Yes," she replied shakily.

"And why do you think that is, Miss Weasley?"

"Because … he only just recently got a promotion as the Head of the Auror Department, but then he had the time."

"And you consider this a form of negligence committed by him?"

Ginny looked up to Theo briefly just to see the playful smile slip off his face. Tears were in her eyes as she turned to Harry a moment before she became preoccupied with her hands again.

"Please answer the question, Miss Weasley," several voices from the Wizengamot ordered after a brief silence from the redhead.

"Yes, please," Theo reciprocated. "Did Harry neglect your children?"

"No," she whispered as the tears began to roll down her freckled cheeks. "Harry just neglected me."

Theo bit his lip as he looked at the shaking red head of the woman sobbing into her hands before him, then turned back to the Minister and pasted a rather large smile on his face. "That's all I needed to hear from her. No more questions for this witness."

*

"That was brilliant, niffler-butt," Draco said in congratulation to Theo as the Wizengamot recessed before the next round of the trial. He, the counseler, Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat at a rather cramped table at a small café the Ministry had set up in an odd place between the third and fourth floors.

"I agree," Hermione said, surprising Draco who had never heard those words directed to his own from her. She smiled at his expression. "No, seriously, I do. I feel that exposing Ginny's hypocrisy is the best course of action regarding this case. You did a splendid job, Theodore."

"Why, thank you," the man replied as he smiled at the witch flirtaciously, earning a glare from Ron.

"Yeah," the redhead said as he eyed the other and wrapped a protective arm around his wife. Hermione only stared at him quizzically as Harry laughed.

"Draco, put a leash on your friend."

The blond rolled his eyes at Harry's words and shrugged. "I have no control over that thing. I had to stop him last night from making the Minister a visit."

"You almost went to Kingsley's?" Hermione asked Theo, her expression absolutely scandalized, but her sudden leaning position revealed her interest.

"I received a letter from him and I just wanted to say hello, is all," Theo replied softly as he pressed the tips of his pointer fingers together. "Is that so wrong?"

"Slut," Draco muttered, earning the other Slytherin's glare.

"Oh, shut up. Kingsley has a big dick. There, I said it!" Theo stood up dramatically and gave them all a grand bow before disappearing in a flash with a soft _pop_.

"You Slytherins are loony, the lot of you," Ron chuckled.

"Yeah, well, screw you," Draco replied as he set his head on his lover's shoulder. "Did Theo tell you what course he's going to take when questioning you?"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before he began to stroke the other's hair and answered, "Well, he said that he did not have much to ask me other than exactly what I wanted for an outcome of this trial. He told me that I should stay fair to Ginny because it would work to make her look even pettier … He told me that Blaise would probably bring up the missing house and to lie at all costs about it because the Auror Department is loyal to me and won't reveal anything that I don't want revealed to Zabini's snooping."

Draco nodded and nuzzled his lover's ear. "What shall we do after this trial? I'm sure you're tired and I know you need to relax, you know. I can take you somewhere," he suggested softly. "Just me and you … or we can take the kids … you know … so they can get used to it."

"Used to what?" Harry asked, eyeing the other man because he was curious about the usually bold blond's hesitance.

"Used to … us … being together … as a … family," Draco replied with a slight blush, triggering a tide of redness across Harry's own cheeks.

"Oh." A family … with Draco. He had thought about it, laid in bed awake many a night thinking about it in fact; especially when curled around the other man. He had even joked about being a stepfather to Draco's son and marriage … God, marriage. Was he ready for that step yet? He loved Draco, he loved him, but … he was barely divorced, Ginny was still in his life and things were changing faster than he could think them through. Draco loved him unconditionally and he loved Draco, but doubt tugged at his chest, his heart, and as weak as the tug was, as faint as it seemed to be, Harry needed to acknowledge that it was doubt nonetheless.

And he was not willing to put his future, his children's future, or even Draco's at risk.

*

**Author's Note:** So this chapter sucks major ass. I don't like it and that's probably why you guys haven't seen it for more than half a year. I don't hate it; in fact, I like the last little part when Harry begins to think about his life. Okay, so let me embarrass myself and ask for reviews because I need criticism – like serious, literary criticism because I can see this story going south in a way no one's going to like. I started off with a certain tone and – I have to admit it to myself – the first couple of chapters were good. I enjoyed my writing style in those few chapters. However, as this story has progressed and gotten harder to write, my writing now blows. I need to get back to the mode of those first few chapters. I had thought that the True Malfoy Form chapters had brought me back to that special writing place, but then the story was beginning to turn too dark for me and I had to boost it back up to another mood with the spork chapter because I did not want to bum out my audience.

Anywho, I'm sure I could continue to write this A/N, but it's becoming so long that I don't even want to reread it for typos (_type-bos_ – haha, inside joke). So please review and help me with my story because I really don't want to disappoint the people that like this story. _**-DMH**_


	15. What the Bloody Hell

**Author's Note:** I'm an asshole, I'm aware. This story has not been updated in almost a year. I suck at life. Sawwy. Oh, and it's short, too. Double sawwy. _**–DMH**_

oO0Oo

"Let me ask the question again, Mister Potter," Blaise said softly as the ringing taps of his pacing steel toed boots echoed through the large room, "Are you still in love with your wife?"

The room was deftly silent as an answer was being formulated. Harry could feel the eyes piercing into the back of his head, his front, his sides, urging him to look up and meet them with an honest reply. "I …"

"Yes or no, Mister Potter?" Zabini purred as he began to circle his witness like a vulture. He was pleased that he had finally knocked Potter off the pedestal he had been on this entire trial, even through his prodding of where the house everyone knew the man had hidden could be. Sweat was gathering at Potter's brows and it took everything in the former Slytherin to not smile when he saw green eyes briefly glance towards a stone-faced blond.

"Yes."

Ginny's sigh of relief was almost lost in the disbelieving gasps let out by a few of the members of the Wizengamot. Almost. Draco caught it and had to stare at his hands so as not to look pleadingly towards Harry.

"How did you perceive the last year of your marriage to be?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat and shrugged. "I dunno, it was … normal, I guess. We were both busy with a lot of things. Uh, our youngest boy was starting at Hogwarts and our daughter, Lily, was begging us to let her go to a camp that required children under the age of eleven to get their wands early. I was okay with it, but Ginny didn't think it was a good idea. That was the only big thing I can remember us arguing about."

"And how was your wife's behavior? "Normal", too?" prodded Blaise.

"Yes," Harry replied despite knowing that he was walking right into something.

"So, Mister Potter, you consider your wife crying herself to sleep at night because her husband doesn't pay attention to her a normality?"

Teeth sunk into his lip as Harry managed to save a tear from falling. "I didn't know."

"That much is obvious, Mister Potter," Harry knew the other man wanted to sneer, but the words came out in a fairly soft, lilting manner. "How was your sex life?"

Predictable as ever, Harry felt his ears redden and his anger heat. "Fine."

"How often did you have sex with your wife, Mister Potter? Let's say …" Blaise pursed his lips as he pretended to think it over, but never paused in his circling. "Hmm … in a month? The last month?"

"We've never gone a week without having sex unless she or I was out of town. The last month of our marriage we had sex maybe once, but I had been in Libya for two weeks and the rest of that time was spent in and out of the office. " Blaise smiled at the other man as if the teeth he had bared had another purpose besides clenching back the yells.

"How was it?"

"Excuse me?"

"How was the sex?"

Harry spun in his seat to glare at the members of the Wizengamot, but was shocked to see them all staring back at him in wait of an answer – some seemed to even salivate for it. Kingsley face was passive and when he looked back at his counselor, he saw that Theo was a bit curious himself.

"Mister Potter?" spoke Zabini as if his words were meant for a crying child instead of the actual truth: a question meant for the never tiring public humiliation of Harry J. Potter.

When he answered, his voice was clipped. "It was fine."

"It's safe to assume that it was satisfactory for you?" chuckled the tall counselor as he finally stopped his constant pacing, the sound of his final steel-toed step ringing through the large room as he moved to stand in front of his witness. "Let it be known that Mister Potter nodded his agreement with my assumption. So … you were satisfied? Was she?"

"Obviously not." When Harry's biting voice offered no further explanation, Zabini jabbed a few questions for a better answer. "She told me that she was moving in with Neville Longbottom. She said that she was leaving me for him and she implied that they were sleeping together."

"How did this make you feel?"

"Are you a Mind Healer now, Zabini?" Theo finally spoke up, standing and maneuvering around his small table. Blaise smiled warmly and held up both hands in his innocence, staring his former classmate in the eyes even as the usual humor held in them disappeared. "Witches and Wizards, it is quite obvious that this counselor has no other intentions of gaining his client what she wishes, but instead has chosen to besmirch the great Harry Potter's name in the press with the intimate details of his marriage which will undoubtedly be leaked immediately following this trial. I call for immediate dismissal of Harry Potter's testimonies."

Many members of the bench stared down at the purple-suited clown with looks of shock at being addressed so directly and in such a serious manner, but others whispered amongst themselves. The latter group included the Minister, who's own ear was held by the elderly witch the the left of him. He nodded to her once and turned to Theo. "We, the Wizengamot, have decided that it would be best to keep Mr. Potter's testimonies on record. However, we have also decided that now would be the best time to come to a decision about the fate of the children as well as the distribution of belongs, the missing house included. All those in favor of granting full custody of the three children, James, Albus, and Lily to Miss Ginevra Weasley?" A surprisingly large amount of members, but still less than half raised their hands. "Both parents will share equal custody."

oO0Oo

Harry could not stop thinking about the way Ginny stared at him at the close of the trial. There were tears in her eyes – Draco called them the result of her frustration at only retrieving half of what she wanted.

And she did get half of everything.

The custody of the children.

The money.

And his house … if it were to ever appear again.

At first he protested this, it was his parent's home after all, but when he thought of it, he knew better than to argue. The only other property he owned was what Sirius had given and from past experience, Harry knew that the House of Black had yet to adjust to him being its master; he could only imagine the horrors it would bestow on his exwife if possession of it had been given to her. It was bad enough that he, a halfblood with no _Black_ blood, owned the house, but to give it to yet another outsider – a blood traitor – would cause the portrait of Mrs. Black to screech until the end of days.

He would have to try his hardest to get Draco to lift his Fidelus, he could tell. At mention of the house, the blond had closed down on him, retreating into his sneers and hair flipping when moments before he had been congratulating his lover for "winning". Harry could only imagine what he would have to barter to please the other man. Draco would want him to move into his apartment.

He would push for their relationship to move faster.

He would push for promises.

He would push for everything.

He sighed and stared out the window and into the London skyline.

"Tired?"

"Thinking," replied Harry as he stood from his perch at the edge of Draco's bed and turned to face the blond in the doorway.

Draco strode into the large room, manuvoring around his large bed and tugging Harry flush to him with an arm around his waist. "Brooding seems more like. You're not happy with all you've accomplished today?"

"No, it's not … I just need time to adjust, is all." Draco may have protested, but he did not move to stop Harry from pulling away. The brunet moved to the other side of the large, white room, away from the window, the blond, and his bed. "I need time to think."

"Think about what?" Draco purred rather than growled; Harry almost commended him on the feat. "Why aren't you happy?"

Harry let loose another string of sighs that had his lover crossing his arms. He let his fingers play along the line of the back of the long, cream sofa and said softly, "I don't know if I want this."

"I'm afraid to ask what 'this' is," Draco admitted as he spun around to take his turn brooding at London. "I've done all I could do. I don't know what else to do. I thought I was right."

"I'm not breaking up with you, Draco."

"You just don't want to be with me."

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to."

"I'm sorry –"

"Lily's settled and sleeping in the guest room. Do you want me to set up a cot or something for you in there?"

"I'm sorry, Draco."

"I hate you, Potter," Draco said with a sniff and Harry gathered his bag of unpacked clothing and told Draco's back that he'd be back to pick up Lily in the morning.

oO0Oo

Hermione usually prided herself on never being surprised. Shock or any such feeling came from lacking knowledge of the different components and variables around oneself. One could not predict every action that one's friends take, but one could learn to expect an assortment of acts one's friends could be capable of.

Nevertheless, when Hermione opened her front door that night and saw her best friend standing on her porch with red eyes and a duffle bag in his hand, she found she had sorely miscalculated and the shock of it caused her to call for her husband immediately.

At the sudden blast of his name, Ron jumped up from the slumped position on the couch he had been nodding off in, turned off the television and went towards the direction of his wife's bellowing. Once he saw around the frizz of her hair and saw Harry's forlorn expression just outside the front doorway, he asked the question his wife had been too surprised to ask.

"Harry, what the bloody hell are you doing here?"

oO0Oo

**A/N:** Well, that was something, huh? Good or bad? Let me know. _**-DMH**_


	16. Pathetic Me

"I'm going to kill him, Hermione. His head is going to be on a stick – my wand, in fact – and I'll brandish him to the entire wizarding world with a plaque over that stupid bloody scar bearing the words 'Here is the head of the greatest idiot fucking prat that ever has existed', that bleeding fool."

Using the feathered tip of her quill she brushed her bangs from her eyes and stared at the man who had plopped into the chair on the other side of her desk. "Good morning, Draco. Mind a cuppa, do you?"

Before he could answer or spew out more threats to Harry's life, a delicate tea cup and saucer appeared at the swish of her wand along with a small plate of biscuits. He chose a chocolate one to chomp on before softly letting out, "I don't know what I did wrong."

Hermione sighed and closed her door with another flick of her wand – a sure sign that no one in the Ministry's department of Wizard and Magical Creatures Relations (formerly known as the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures) would come knocking. It was very rare when the head of the department would close her doors to her employees, but when she did and when she was disturbed … No one would come knocking.

She allowed Draco two more biscuits before vanishing the plate all together and prompting him to continue with an arch of her brow.

"Where is he?"

"My house."

"What's he doing?" The blond frowned at her answering sigh and leaned forward as if to look deeper into her eyes. "Is he going back to her? After all I've done?"

"I don't believe so, Draco, but I do think he's thinking about it. He's being rather … childish about the entire thing and Ronald is only indulging him; sitting with him and scowling, mouthing off at whatever Harry's mouths off on, running errands for him –"

"I know that one," he seethed, but upon seeing her confusion at his tone, Draco explained, "He sent Ron to pick up Lily from my flat the other day … He didn't even want to see me."

"He's scared."

"Of what? I've given him everything! I'll do anything! I love him, I want him, I need him! What's to scare him? I've given him everything he's ever going to need – to want!"

Thanks to the wand Draco had suddenly fisted as he pounded his hand on her desk, the brunette brushed the excess debris from the ceiling off her paperwork, and then folded her hands over it. He put down his wand sheepishly.

"He's never had everything he's wanted, Draco, and now that he does it seems as if he's unconsciously sabotaging himself until he gets into a more familiar environment of constantly wanting fulfillment –"

"B-b-but that's just the stupidest –"

"Or he really is in love with Ginny and wants to be with her again –"

"B-but why? I've given –"

"Or he's in love with you at the same time and he has no idea how to solve his dilemma without hurting everyone involved –"

"Why the hell would he –"

"Or maybe it's all of the above or none of those at all, Draco. I don't know and I refuse to ask him for you," Hermione said coldly, but her warm golden eyes amended his feelings. "This is between you and him. I think both of you are old enough to work it out face to face and not sneak behind one another's backs."

Silence filled the room as the blond contemplated her words. Finally, he sighed, and nodded his head, and asked for another cookie.

* * *

"Oi, Weasley, I need something from you!"

Ron regarded the blond head floating in the fireplace of his Assistant Head Auror office the same way a fat man regards a dirty public toilet after several large burritos with extra jalapeños.

"What do you need?" he said softly.

"It's about Harry." And as Ron rose from his chair and moved around his desk to sit in front of the fireplace, an evil smile spread over the disembodied head's face.

Despite the other's expression, Ron leaned in with the full intention of listening because, like the fat man's dirty toilet, he didn't want to use Malfoy, but he had to.

* * *

"Ronald, you'll never guess who stopped by my office this morning."

"Who?" the redhead grumbled into his pillow, turning onto his side with his back to Hermione. Bless his wife, but did she always have to start a conversation as soon as he had begun to drift to sleep? There had been a solid half hour of silence as she first refused his usual nightly efforts of romance and then opened a book concerning giant squids where she could have asked any question she liked, but no, once his eyes were drifting close, she wants to share who joined her on her lunch break.

"Draco did." His eyes opened at that one.

"Did he? What, uh, did he want?" Keep your heart rate down, Ronnie. She can sense your fear.

"He came in cursing Harry and whatnot, but really he just wanted to know how Harry was doing and I think he wanted me to help him," she told him, her voice lowered despite the guestroom their conversation's subject occupied was on the floor below and on the opposite side of the house from their bedroom.

Ron squirmed a bit, but covered his nervous gesture by feigning the fluffing of his pillow. "What did you say to him?"

"I told him that I wasn't going to help him in the slightest," she said as she turned a page, the almost silent, swishing noise of the action almost making her husband cough up all of his internal organs.

"Really?"

"Yes, Ronald. They're grown men and they certainly don't need me to guide their relationship – neither does Harry need you to coddle him."

"I don't coddle him," he barked as suddenly all his apprehension shrunk, enabling him with enough courage to sit up and look his wife in the eyes. He shouldn't have been surprised when he saw that her eyes were already on him instead of the squid book she was supposedly reading, but he was anyway and that shrunken apprehension grew a tiny bit bigger. "I mean … I don't mean to."

There was clear disapproval in her eyes, for what, he wasn't sure, but he was used to the look by now.

"Ronald, just tell me that you'll stay out of it. I don't want anything crazy to happen."

"Right, Hermione." Too late.

* * *

"I'm glad you came out with me today, mate. You've been kinda down lately."

Harry smiled softly to his best friend and nodded. "I know, I know. You must think me foolish."

"Never mate," Ron answered a bit quickly as he turned and pushed open the front door of Harry's Godric's Hollow house, but all Harry could do was smile at his back. He knew Ron did not understand everything, but he was still grateful that the other man understood enough to not push him.

"I can't believe Draco dropped the curse," the brunet said as he closed the front door behind him. He gave the foyer a quick survey, glancing into other rooms and seeing that nothing had changed. He followed Ron into the living room, chuckled at the sight of the tall man sprawled across his couch and settled into his favorite chair.

"Yep, sent me an owl about it right before I met you for lunch."

"Yeah?"

"Yep … Guess he was too scared to send you an owl."

The guilty gesture of scratching the back of his neck occurred after that statement and Harry suddenly found it hard to look into his friend's eyes. Finally, they had broached the subject that they both had been avoiding for days: Draco.

"I … I haven't been answering his owls."

"Why?"

Though Ron's voice was soft, Harry jerked at the question. "I need time."

"Time for what?"

This time he met Ron's blue eyes and frowned. Ron was staring at him hungrily, his answer the only nourishment. "I need time to myself, I thought you knew that."

"You've had time to yourself for the past week and a half, Harry, and now that Lily's with her mother, you have even more time to yourself. How much time do you need?"

"I don't know!" Harry fumed, clinching his fists tightly and thumping them against the armrests. "It's too much right now. I can't keep Draco hovering around me when I'm not sure where my life is going. It's not fair to him or my children. They need consistency right now… I need that, too, but first I need to figure out what can get me to that point."

"Forever the martyr, eh Harry?"

The sharp green gaze landed on the other man, searching and defensive. "I don't want to hurt anyone else."

Ron shrugged and sat up – a bit stiffly – before crossing one of his legs over the other.

"I'm serious… Ron. I don't want anyone else hurt. I'm going through a lot."

"Isn't it a bit late to be thinking of other's welfare?" Ron purred, rolling his wrist at the question as if it was a mere suggestion and not an accusation. "Especially now; since you've suddenly decided to be selfish."

The scowl that had formed at Ron's strange gesturing only deepened and Harry growled, "I'm not selfish. I'm looking out for my kids and Draco."

"By pushing Draco out of your life? You wouldn't do that to your kids. You wouldn't dare."

"Well, _Ron_, if Draco didn't push himself into my life in the first place, I would have to push him away!"

"So you're blaming him for this mess!"

"No! Yes! Yes, I am."

"You arse!"

"Oh come off it, _Draco_, you seduce me away from my wife, then you mention all this marriage and craziness, I met your demon spawn, and I fell in love with you in the span of a few weeks. It's a lot! Considering all that I had to go through with Ginny and then talking to my kids about it! It's too much!"

The other man was quiet, seemingly content with listening to Harry gain his breath back until he asked, softly, "How did you know it was me?"

"I don't know! Maybe because at lunch you ordered the one dessert Ron hates or because you're sitting like a bloody princess right now or maybe because your hair went blond three minutes ago!"

Running a hand – that was noticeably paler and less freckly – through his silvery hair, Draco sighed and sat up the way he was normally accustomed to.

"I'm assuming you didn't take the Fidelius curse off, then?"

Draco shook his head, the gesture annoyingly tossing his lengthening hair into his eyes. "Just modified it so it would let you in."

"How did you get Ron to give you his hair?"

"He was just as annoyed with you as everyone else is."

"Everyone…" Harry blanched and looked away.

"Yes, everyone. Hermione says you're being childish. I agree with her."

The thought of the confrontation he would have with his friends later in the evening was placed in the back of Harry's mind. Instead of focusing on that, he sat up in his own seat and stared into the other's newly grey eyes.

"Draco, I'm serious. I need time."

"For what, Harry?" asked Draco softly, flipping his hair out of his eyes once more. "Can't you see what this is doing to me?"

"Draco… What it's doing to you?" The blond gave a gasp of surprise when Harry's face fell further; he had not thought it possible. The twist of lips that now adorned his lover's expression twisted his own heart – twice, for each downturned corner. "I can't do this, Draco. I understand what you want from me, I really do. I understand what everyone else wants from me – even Ginny. I'm sorry I can't give it to you right now, but…

"For the first eleven years of my life… I've been stuck, you know? Just alone and weak, unable to get away from those who were supposed to be caring for me. Then… when I finally think I'm free, I learn that I'll never be free again. Now I'm stuck again with a task that seems just… just so large, so much bigger than me. Then, when I'm free of that, I get stuck into the expectations of others. Love Ginny, marry Ginny, become an auror, have children, help everyone, you owe it to them. _Then_, when I come across the one thing besides my children that makes me genuinely happy… that makes me feel free, seriously, floating on air – chasing snitches all day – free!...

"I'm stuck again." Harry stood then and gave a small shrug, avoiding Draco's eyes. "I love you so much, Draco. And I'm sorry that you feel as if this is something that I'm doing to you, but I hope one day you'll realize that I'm doing this _for me_." He lifted his gaze to Draco's and, with the sudden force of that green stare, the blond found himself looking away. "I'm not ready to fall in line with all your expectations, Draco. I need to know that the things that you want are also the things that I want and I need to know that I'm not forcing myself to want those things just because I love you. I can't do that again… I can't do that to another person."

"Do you feel the same way about me as you do… her?"

"Do you mean, do I love her?" Draco nodded and Harry winced. "I don't think so. No. I love you, I do… but I'm not a chess piece, Draco. I can't go where you tell me to just because you're so used to being the master of the board. You manipulate everything. Everything! Just so you can get your way."

"I did it for you!"

"You did it for you… because you thought that was what was going to get me!" Harry slowly unclenched the fist he had pounded onto the head of the chair and lifted his hand to stare at its reddened side. "You give me my children and I'm yours for sure. I can see right through you and I absolutely refuse to do what you want."

"To spite me?" hissed the blond, but he sat back when Harry's eyes narrowed into slits.

"No. I don't want to hurt you, but I also don't want to force myself to bend to your will just because I love you! I want to be Harry. Not _the_ Harry Potter, not the auror, not the savior, not Ginny's perfect husband and lover, not the Weasley's perfect son, and not your perfect lover! I want to be Harry… who you happen to love and because you love him… you don't rush him. You don't guilt him into feeling before he's ready to feel. You don't expect him to fall in line with your plans, no matter how agreeable they may seem. I want an opinion. I want you to ask me _my thoughts_ about our future before you already decide exactly what is the right path and what we should do. I want some control, too. Just a little, Draco."

"Harry… I…"

"I just don't want to feel like I'm watching my life from the sidelines. I don't want to just go along with anything anymore without stopping to think whether or not it's what I need to do. I can't do that anymore."

Draco's face reddened in the following silence as realization hit him hard. "I think… I understand."

* * *

**A/N:** Well now, you all got an explanation. Is it a valid one? **_–DMH_**

p.s. As soon as I wrote "For the first eleven years of my life…" my initial thought was, "Boohoo, Potter! Now hop on Draco's penis!" but if you really think about it – you know, past all the rabid fangirliness – you know Harry's been through enough. I almost talked myself out of writing this sob speech, but really, if anybody has the right to say it, shouldn't it be this little boy who grew up in a cupboard and had to not only confront, but kill and even die for his greatest bane, enemy, and fear?


End file.
